Fandom Set Sail! - Roleplay Chat

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It's the dawn of a new era - but some things never change.
Young people with dreams in their hearts set sail on the Grand Line, chasing whatever it is that they desire - fame, riches, adventure...

This is where our story begins.
A person with a burning passion in their heart decides to travel the world and search for whatever it is that they long for-- and along the way, they pick up misfit after misfit to join their crew as they sail towards their eventual destination. Through fun times, fights, betrayals, and tragedies, taking main paths and side roads, enjoying small joys and feeling full sorrows, this crew of individuals becomes inseparable. The stakes are only raised the further towards their destination they become. They must face their own demons, and take on impossible battles.
At least they don't have to fight alone.

This is the official roleplay chat where the action will take place. Any chatting should be conducted in the OOC chat!
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[The Black Knight]

There were people lining the streets, watching a parade of Marines lead a woman by a noose. Her wrists were bound by ropes at her back. A potato sack hid her head from view as the people scoffed and cursed at her.

Whore!

Savage!

Blue eyes squinted through the holes in the bag at the back of a marine officer and hangman who called himself Ensign Luther Sagaru. The hangman stood seven feet and some inches. His broad, upper frame made her resemble a bean pole. Black sunglasses hid his eyes beneath his blue and white marine cap. On the back of his white jacket that barely contained his bulk swelling through the lapels of it was a kanji symbol for “justice.” He marched with authority in his step. His hands were balled into tight fists and the corner of his lip turned up in annoyance at the commotion.

The townsfolk started throwing old cabbage, tomatoes, and other trash as they continued to shout their curses. A slimy head of lettuce struck Luther in the chest and left a stain that resembled shit on his stark-white jacket. Instantly, Luther stopped, and his shrunk and disturbed eyes peered down at the stain. His face then flushed red before he roared, “KNOCK IT OFF!”

The trash and the shouting abruptly ceased. Baring his teeth, the ensign thought, I JUST HAD THIS DRY-CLEANED! DAMN THEM!

“Aww~ did you get hit by my trash?” the prisoner cooed. “That’s going to be difficult to get out.”

Luther turned at the waist, raising the back of his monstrous hand in a threatening gesture. The prisoner giggled playfully like a little girl, dancing backwards, which made his cheeks darken. What is with this girl? Doesn’t she realize that she’s about to be executed? he thought irritably.

The marine behind her planted a foot in the small of her back and shoved her forward. “Quit foolin’ around!”

The noose went taught, jerking her neck and causing her to cough.

Luther faced forward and continued onward toward the gallows. The pink was slowly leaving his cheeks. The other Marines had said that the prisoner was a looker. She was The Crimson Witch, a thief and a terrorist. They had to keep the bag over her head, so the men didn’t fall for her enchantments. Just then, he swore he had felt the magic in her voice. Her giggle had been so nice. What was he saying?! Luther nervously grit his teeth harder. They should have gagged her. Didn’t witches speak spells? No matter. They were almost there.

They left a narrow street and entered a square where more citizens were gathered. Executions were morbid, live entertainment, and parents often used them to scare their children into not committing similar crimes as the ones being executed. They ascended the wooden, creaky steps of the gallows. Luther assumed his position next to the post and drop lever, while the other marines positioned the prisoner and set the noose.

Her eyes lowered to the hatch beneath her feet, and then rose to the top of the post where her noose was being tied. Once the preparations were made, Luther thrust out his arm in her direction and announced, “Standing before you is The Crimson Witch!”

WITCH!

DEVIL!

Like a rising tide, the people became unruly until Luther roared once more, “SHUT IT! I’m talking…” He brought a fist up to his mouth and cleared his throat, “She has stolen 6 million berries from the World Government…”

She looked at Luther and corrected, “Um, technically it was already stolen by the Saltlick Pirates. I just stole it back-”

“Shut up!” he growled.

So grumpy, she whispered.

“She has countlessly evaded arrest for three months and was finally brought in by a bounty hunter who didn’t fall for her seditious recruitment ploys. Lastly, she is charged with being a witch and using her magic to manipulate innocents for her benefit. Therefore, the World Government has declared her guilty, and the witch shall be executed by hanging!”

The people silently stared. Luther made a rolling motion with his wrist and sighed, “You can cheer now.”

YEAH! KILL THE WITCH!

SNAP HER NECK!

A sweat bead rolled down the side of her head as she thought, These people are bloodthirsty.

“On three. 1…”

Her eyes nervously passed over the crowd. They were screeching for her demise.

“2…”

Her fingers tightly clenched behind her back and toes curled within her moccasin-like shoes.

“PULL!”

That wasn’t three, were her last thoughts.

 

[nonexistent]

Sylvix was not known as a bounty hunter of any kind. In fact, he wasn't 'known' as anything or anyone in particular.

However... when someone as eye-catching as the Crimson Witch walked right before his bored gaze, it was too hard to resist the urge to string her up and feed her to the Marines dogs.

The tantalizing bounty on her wanted poster and the gnawing hunger in his stomach had only gone on to encourage Sylvix further towards his desire to achieve the monetary reward. While other men ogled in the streets let on like pigs chasing a carrot on a stick, Sylvix looked on with a separate type of interest-- that of a hunter and his prey.

It had been a little more difficult than Sylvix had anticipated to ensnare the red-headed woman. She was observant. Intelligent. It didn't take long for Sylvix to notice these traits while tracking her day and night. Discovering those characteristics of hers only made Sylvix's cautious task of capturing her become even more engaging.

Hunting and trapping were simply a part of Sylvix's being. The actions came so easily that they might as well have been second nature to breathing. So when he had finally gotten the ropes around Roisin's wrists with perfected and practiced ease, Sylvix saw nothing but another task completed. Another rabbit snared. Even as he turned Roisin in to the Marines and received his plentiful cash bounty, he had done so without an ounce of concern or worry for Roisin's eventual fate. She was wanted-- and Sylvix was simply turning in a criminal, who had most likely committed some awful act. It was a simple and logical exchange.

That didn't explain the racing of his heart when Sylvix saw who the prisoner was being paraded down the main road, led by a noose tied around their neck. Even with her face covered, Sylvix knew exactly who it was. He had known as soon as he'd heard the news of an execution by the feeling between his ribs.

His chest hurt. His fingertips tingled with an electric buzz.

Before he knew it, Sylvix had begun tracking this woman once again-- only this time, it was towards her death.

Sylvix had quickly found his way to high ground, traversing the rooftops while following the pace of the jeering crowd underneath. His feet moved soundlessly over the shingles, and his pale eyes remained focused on their target all the way to the execution grounds.

As the broad-chested Marine who had led her the whole way began speaking of Roisin's crimes, Sylvix tuned out. He didn't hear a word of it. He was instead focused on the platform, where his mind began to wander into a daydream. Sylvix imagined how the execution would happen. Would Roisin's neck be snapped instantly, giving her a merciful death? Or would she be unlucky instead, forced to gasp for air like a fish out of water until her skin turned blue? No matter how vividly (or morbidly) Sylvix imagined it, he didn't feel like any of the outcomes were right. They were not a fitting ending for the woman he'd inadvertently gotten to know through observation.

Logically, Sylvix told himself that he should not interfere with an execution. He should not draw any attention to himself. He hated the spotlight.

Then why, once he had heard the spoken sound of the first number ringing out through the execution grounds, did his body betray his mind?

He had almost been too late. 'In the nick of time' would be an understatement to Sylvix's impromptu rescue as he leaped from the rooftop with all of his might, grabbing the knife hidden in his utility belt during his brief time sailing through the air. His short yet powerful legs vaulted him just far enough to reach where he had been aiming.

Sylvix imagined it the few seconds he was in the air, and followed the exact motions moments after. He landed on the topmost plank of the wooden, box-like perimeter surrounding the platform, his feet barely sticking the landing on such a thin space. The forward motion carried him onward, where Sylvix leaped from the tiny railing and swiped his dagger through the thick rope, cutting it and a few strands of Roisin's red hair without a millisecond of time left to spare. If he had missed the ledge of the railing and had landed on the platform below, his short height would have impeded him from severing the rope. If he hadn't sharpened his bulky hunting knife earlier in the day, it likely wouldn't have cut the rope entirely. Only the luck of the devil could have secured him such a perfect landing and execution of actions.

At the same time as he was cutting the rope, Sylvix let his imagination overrun itself, activating his devil fruit power to show a different scene unfolding. He, Roisin, the Marines above and a small portion of the crowd in the front would all see the same thing. In this illusion, Roisin did not survive the hanging. Rather, her body fell, weighing heavily onto the rope with a loud, sickening set of vertebrae snapping. The force had not only snapped her neck-- it had sent her head flying up into the air, where it spun around and landed next to the Marine's squeaky clean boot, splattering it with blood. More blood sprayed down onto members of the eager crowd from her neck, causing them to scream or retch as the warm, iron-scented liquid splattered onto their skin. Members of the crowd further back who were unaffected by the illusion watched those in the front with bewilderment as they suddenly screeched and began wiping at their faces as if they had been sprayed with acid.

Moments later, Roisin's decapitated head began to cackle loudly, laughing with unrestrained insanity as 'her' eyes watched the crowd. She began to create fake, haunting curses as the head spoke towards the crowd-- though it was just utter nonsense that crossed Sylvix's mind.

Finally, he had imagined a perfect ending to the scenario that he couldn't before. It was a fitting and entertaining end for the Crimson Witch. Theatrical. Morbid.

Sylvix did not have Roisin's voice memorized, so the pitch was slightly untrue to reality. The blood spray was also unrealistically gory and dramatic, but Sylvix couldn't help where his imagination interfered with his devil fruit ability. When a talking head was involved, realism wasn't exactly the primary focus.

While chaos was let loose, Sylvix grabbed Roisin's hand and muttered a monotone "Come on," before leading her as quickly as possible off of the platform, rushing before he ran out of material to show the crowd (and more importantly, the Marines).

He thought briefly that it might be depersonalizing to see yourself being decapitated after almost being hanged...

Soon after they had descended the platform, Sylvix broke into a sprint, still holding Roisin's hand as they begun to flee the scene. If she resisted, he would simply let go and escape himself. He had done his part, and the consequences were already weighing on Sylvix's mind.

The illusion had quickly vanished as the two skirted around the crowd, not even fully out of sight yet-- both confusion and unrest could be heard in the voices of the crowd, and a powerful voice sounded from the Marine who had been on top of the platform as he tried to settle the people and barked out orders.

Sylvix didn't know where they were running to or where he was leading Roisin-- but as long as they were moving, they would certainly end up somewhere.

 

[The Black Knight]

The hatch opened. Her heart plummeted within her chest as she dropped. She had expected the noose to go taut around her neck, but instead, the cobbled and hay-strewn ground rushed up to her feet. She felt solid ground, and her legs buckled bringing her bottom slamming against it. Roisin’s teeth clenched in a wince beneath the bag over her head. Something had happened. Had the noose been made from an old rope? She looked up and saw herself dangling. Blood was running down her form and her body eventually dropped after sliding free from the noose. Roisin frantically scooted away from it, her face going as white as a sheet if she wondered if she had died. She wondered if she was a spirit now, and the thought had been quickly dismissed when she still felt the reverberating pain in her backside. Someone was using a devil fruit.

She didn’t want to waste anymore time. Roisin used her balance and rocked forward onto her feet. The bag was still over her head and her wrists still bound behind her as she swiftly raced out from beneath the gallows’ stage. She targeted one of several marines guarding it. He was wailing in panic, dragging the pads of his fingers across streams of blood that covered his face. As Roisin closed on him, she raised her foot and planted it against his stomach. She jumped up and hooked her right leg around the neck of the marine before her left joined. The marine’s eyes swelled in alarm as he suddenly found himself face-deep in a crotch with strong thighs clenching the sides of his head like pliers. Roisin threw her shoulders back, leaning back toward the ground in a low, swinging momentum that brought the marine down to the ground and her upwards. The marine and Roisin collapsed on their sides, and she applied further pressure to his head. His hands grasped the powerful thighs that held him until he lost consciousness between them.

There were hearts in the marine’s unconscious eyes and blood leaking from his nostrils. Roisin turned her back to his hip where she had spotted his cutlass. She pressed the back of her bound wrists against it, lifting the sword partially to reveal its sharp edge. Brushing her bindings against it, she freed her arms and grasped the sack off her head as her rose-red locks burst free. Roisin sighed in relief and glanced at the stage.

The whites of Luther’s eyes had been shining when he saw Roisin’s head roll next to his foot. His skin crawled when it started talking, and then instantly he frowned in confusion. Hadn’t she had a bag over her head? Her voice had sounded different too. He glanced around at the carnage. It was over-dramatic and didn’t make sense. Luther kicked the skull aside and angrily marched across the stage. His eyes swept the crowd before he saw some ways away a red-headed girl escaping with…hadn’t that been the guy who turned her in? The ensign’s face flashed a darker shade as both of his hands slapped down upon the railing. He roared with enough frightening presence to snap his men out of their whimpering, “GET THEM! DON’T LET THEM ESCAPE!”

While Roisin and her savior ran, she was staring at the back of his head, her lips curled impishly. “I see you didn’t take the money and run. You want to join my crew. Just admit it,” she teased.

Her hand suddenly tightened on Sylvix’s hand as though now she had him and wasn’t planning on letting him go. “That was a pretty fancy trick. Devil fruit? I could use someone like that on my team.”

Was she giving him an interview in the middle of their escape!?

“Look, I have to make a quick stop to pick up my things. I’m sure they’ll want to catch me more than you, and I can’t really hide my crimson banner (her hair). Meet me at the docks around noon. There should be others who will join. I was sending out invites to join my crew before you turned me in. If you can snag a ship using your little trick that will be even better. You’ll know our friends if they tell you the secret word: Octopus! Okay! See you soon!”

Roisin released Sylvix’s hand, brought her fingers to her lips, blew him a kiss, and shot him a wink. She behaved as though she didn’t doubt he wouldn’t disappear with the bounty and not follow through with her plan. She figured that now the town was up in alarm, he would be wanting to escape the island. If he trusted her, she was hoping to fulfill that wish and more. The red head fled away from him, going in a direction contrary to his own.

 

[nonexistent]

Sylvix swore under his breath as the Marine's voice sounded loudly behind him and Roisin.

Sylvix was now a subject to be pursued. An animal to be hunted. He was wanted-- and not in the way that most people desired.

Vague irritation had already begun to prickle at Sylvix's skin, biting and gnawing at him like hundreds of tiny ants. It prickled at his skin from head to toe. It was an annoying sensation that demanded his attention, yet that he stubbornly ignored.

Roisin's voice broke Sylvix out of his wandering mind, and he took a moment to attempt to process what she was trying to tell him. Join your crew? Yeah, right. I don't even know why I helped you. I should have left you to the Marines, Sylvix thought bitterly, discomfort flowering in his chest like an unsightly weed. His under-the-radar type of lifestyle was being threatened, and it was all because he had gotten involved with the Crimson Witch. Maybe just looking at her brings one hundred years of bad fortune, he began to imagine an urban legend, already fading off again into another daydream.

Sylvix glanced back and upwards at Roisin as she firmly squeezed at his hand, his ghostly eyes studious. He remained silent as she advertised and ordered him to appear at the docks in a few hours, as if she already believed that she were his captain and that he had accepted her ridiculous offer. Or maybe she's reading my mind, and can see into my subconscious. Maybe I do want to join her and don't even know it-- or she's psychically putting the desire into my brain, he thought, considering the possibility briefly before deciding it was stupid.

Before he knew it, the woman had released his hand, giving him a few affectionate gestures before disappearing entirely. Sylvix watched as the last wisps of her red hair vanished behind a building.

He stared blankly at where Roisin had left, bewildered. When shouting voices sounded behind him, Sylvix was reminded to keep running.

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After winding through the streets like a rat in a complex maze, Sylvix found himself back at his temporary living space. He had holed up on the second floor of an abandoned building, where he kept his minimal belongings safely tucked away beneath the floorboards. The walls were blank, and not a trace of wallpaper had been left behind. Sylvix shoved the blade of his hunting knife in-between the cracks in the floor, tearing back the wood to reveal a small, black bag. He took out the bag and slung the strap over his head, where it rested on his shoulder and trailed across his chest in an arc.

Sylvix sat down, leaning his back against the wall. A cobweb brushed up against his elbow, and he swiped it away with his other hand. After sitting for a few minutes silently staring at the detailed grooves in the floor, he began to speak.

"I've been cursed." He said dryly, as if stating a simple fact. "If I don't do what she says, It'll be the end of me. I'll see her reflection in every mirror and every puddle until it drives me mad. And one day, when I least expect it...hmm." Sylvix trailed off, raising his gaze to look at the opposite wall. A mirror had appeared there, and Roisin's reflection shone back at him from the opposite side of the glass. She wore a foxlike grin and waved at Sylvix. She tapped at the mirror from the other side, where her fingernails clicked against the hard surface. He stared as if he were frozen in time, watching as she chuckled with bright and playful eyes. Roisin pulled out a Flintlock, pointing the weapon at Sylvix through the mirror.

She pulled the trigger. The glass shattered, raining down onto the floor in thousands of tiny shards. Sylvix flinched.

He looked up at the wall, his gaze empty and bored. The wall was bare, just as it had been when he'd first walked inside.

"Cursed. Definitely cursed..." He muttered, nodding to himself as if it were confirmed. "That wasn't good, though..." Sylvix frowned, contemplating reimagining the scene over again.

Ever since eating the Genso-Genso no Mi, Sylvix would use the ability to bring his daydreams to life in front of his own eyes. He could withdraw into the fantasies of his mind, imagining for hours on end while changing the reality that he saw.

Sylvix stood, keeping the handle of his hunting knife snug in his right hand. The worn leather was comforting, and fit to every little groove in Sylvix's palm. He wandered over to the open window, where no glass remained, and glanced cautiously outside at the empty road.

"Yes, good idea-- cursed or not, we're going to the docks." Sylvix finished conversing with himself, leaving the building. He realized while walking that he did not care if he had been cursed. He highly doubted the fact, though did not discard it entirely as to ruin the scene in his mind. The simple act of imagining such a scenario drove him to want to confirm and compare to what would occur in reality.

He was intrigued-- and that was about the best emotion that Sylvix could get his hands on.

 

[Dextra]

Baterilla Island, that was the name of the island Marionette had been stuck on for the past week. She'd spent the better part of a year hopping from island to island, crew to crew, trying to find one where she belonged. She didn't have much hope of finding a crew that met her strict criteria, but she had a lead, or at the very least a way off this Island. A 'Crimson Witch' had shown an interest.

Marionette had caught Roisin ó Broin's eye while Roisin was gathering a crew on this very island, much to Marionette's surprise. Following a brief conversation, two things became clear. They both avoided hurting innocent people whenever possible, instead focusing on other pirates, and Roisin's intelligence was equal to, if not greater than, Marionette's. That was a huge plus for her because most of the crews she had been a part of had been filled with bone head's who used muscle and violence to solve any problems, but Roisin's methods appeared to be different.

Marionette was intrigued after only a few minutes of conversation, Roisin's words were so precise and deft that they reminded Marionette of chess. Each move, or in this case word, was like a string leading Marionette closer and closer to getting checkmated. Marionette was intrigued by the type of crew this individual would assemble by the end. Marionette's only information about the crew was to meet at the docks by noon the next day, and that octopus was given a word to see if anyone else wanted to join, which Marionette had planned to do.

Her next course of action was to learn what the general public thought of the 'Crimson Witch.' After all, it was easy to lie to someone's face, but their reputation was something that stuck, and learning that would be the best way to determine what kind of person she truly was.

Her strength was not in obtaining information, and her results were mediocre at best. People didn't have much to say, most just said that she's a thief or a pirate. The word menace was also thrown around a lot. While others only talked about her beauty, some told stories of how she can turn men's hearts to stone, that if your eyes make contact you'll fall in love, and that she can make you do whatever she wants with just words. Marionette ignored the majority of it, but she couldn't help but agree with the last portion after becoming the victim of her silver tongue. Marionette had run out of leads and decided to find a place to sleep for the night, so she turned to an odd source: the marine's.

The rest of the night passed without incident; she found a place to sleep and awoke early the next morning. She had already devised a strategy. Leaving the establishment where she had slept, she made her way to the town centre; it was around this time that the marines updated the bounty board, and on most days, only two marine's did so. The first step of her plan had gone off without a hitch; she had arrived just as the two marine's had started their job. Their first action caught Marionette off guard when the Crimson Witch's wanted poster was torn down, causing Marionette to raise an eyebrow.

"Excuse me, I'm sorry for interrupting, but I was wondering what you could tell me about the Crimson Witch?" The question caught the two marine's off guard because they were usually avoided or ignored while performing their duties. "Who's asking?" The marines responded in their usual manner, they didn't like giving out information to anyone who simply asked for it. "Ah, my apologies for my lack of manners, I'm a bounty hunter who has recently begun operating in this area, and I've decided to make the Crimson Witch my target." Marionette's monotone voice caused the marines to relax their guard, as if they didn't see her as a threat, which she wasn't at the time. "Well, you're too late; we've already apprehended her and she's due to be executed soon; it's a public hanging, so if you hurry, I'm sure you'll make it." "Is that so, impressive work, I've heard she's a slippery one, think I'll head over there and watch the execution, then thank you for your time." The two marine's exchanged glances, shrugged, and went about their business. Knowing what she knew about the Crimson Witch, she assumed that the marine's were not the ones who captured her, but rather a third party. She heard the two marine's arguing and the words "that was her". It didn't take long for Marionette to figure out what the context for that line was as it resounded in her ears, and she quickened her pace. Her bounty poster had most likely made it to Baterilla Island.

Marionette was taken aback by the news that, just as everything seemed to be going right, Roisin had been apprehended and sentenced to death by hanging. Marionette was conflicted as a result of her current situation. While she wanted to assist Roisin in escaping, she also wanted to see if she was more than just a smooth talker, to see if she could escape and how she would do so. Marionette walked straight to the execution platform.

It always astounded and disappointed her how many people came to these events to witness another being's murder, but here she was doing the same. Marionette was at the back of the crowd, unsure whether she was going to help or not, or even if she would need to. Marionette held her revolver low and out of prying eyes unless someone was looking closely, and while it appeared to everyone else to be unloaded, it was actually loaded with her Devil fruit-infused breath, which packed a punch. Marionette listened intently from where she was; it was difficult to hear the crimes Roisin had committed over the roaring of the crowd, but she heard enough to form a clear picture; the world government had a role to play in all of this, and Marionette was unsurprised given the state of the world.

The countdown began, and Marionette tightened her grip on her revolver; if she was going to do anything, it would be now. Her brain was telling her to react, but her body was telling her not to, and in those seconds of hesitation, the countdown was in its last second, and Marionette had made her decision. Marionette took aim, aiming for the wooden stand to which the noose was attached, the noose itself being too difficult and dangerous to hit with her type of ammunition. With her finger on the trigger, her gaze drifted to the sky, where another person appeared to be intervening. Marionette lowered her hand and holstered her revolver. She didn't stay for the aftermath because, her actions had drawn a few eyes and, no doubt, some of the civilians would report her; she planned to leave before that happened.

Screams and panic erupted from the scene behind her; she wasn't sure what had happened or if Roisin had survived, but she had a good feeling. Marionette's mind flashed back to the person she saw briefly in the air while she couldn't see much of him his white hair sure stood out to her, and despite the fact that it was only a matter of seconds, she had a feeling she'd see the two of them again. Her pre-existing interest had only grown after seeing what appeared to be one of the Crimson Witch's crew members. The meeting was still a short while away, but Marionette saw no reason to waste any more time and proceeded to the docks.

The most direct way to use secret words was to walk around the docks and say the same thing to everyone, but that could take forever and looks very suspicious. So she devised a strategy. Taking a notebook from her bag, she began to draw various sea creatures, including types of fish, crabs, shrimp, and finally, an octopus. Sitting against a wall near the docks, Marionette displayed all of the sketches she had scattered around her for all to see. The octopus stood out the most to people, having the most detail and being the only one with a title. Roisin had given her the code word "Octopus" and as such that was the title. Now she just had to sit and wait, hoping that whoever else knew about this meeting understood what she was doing. Meanwhile, Marionette had decided to put her drawing skills to use by drawing the scenery of the docks. Although she didn't have much time to draw, she enjoyed it when she did and it was a good way for people to simply pay her no mind.