[Episode] A Tantalizing Tale of a Test, Titties and Tea

Jeremy Filth wrote:Name: A Tantalizing Tale of a Test, Titties and Tea
Category: Episode
Player Participants: Jeremy Filth (+2), Will (-4), Miki Satow (+0)
Planned Location: Baterilla, South Blue
Planned Time Range: January 6, 1829 - January 7, 1829

Summary: After Jeremy is recruited into Cipher Pol, some the higher ups begin become worried he's not suitable to the role. They decide to test him with a "mission" they know he'll hate. He is to act as a butler for a day while the socially awkward Will goes on an arranged date with the beautiful geisha Miki Satow. Jeremy is to remain a perfect gentlemen the whole time.

January 6, 1829. Somewhere in the South Blue Sea...

Jeremy had always liked thunderstorms.

He liked the soothing pitter patter sound the rain made and how it always seemed to calm his nerves. He liked the way the wind and rain often brought a much needed crispness to the normally warm and muggy South Blue air. Most of all, he liked watching the light show that the lightning made as it danced between the sky and the ocean.

Even while he was out at sea, where the water became rough enough to roll the ship from side to side, Jeremy still liked thunderstorms.

With the weather conditions as they were the great blimp-ship Emilia couldn't fly. Her captain, Volo Airheart, had taken the wind out of her balloon and anchored her down while he went deep into her. He had instructed Jeremy, or rather Bill, as the brash young bomber knew him, to stay topside and watch for any trouble. Even from up on deck, over the sounds of the storm, Jeremy could hear Volo banging around inside her.

Peri peri peri...peri peri peri...

Jeremy broke from his trance, looked down at the den den mush on his wrist and sighed. Yesterday a carrier gull had arrived with the small snail in a discrete package. Along with a note instructing him to toss snail into the water after the next call. The plague mask that the tiny snail wore when it started ringing only meant one thing.

Katcha.

“Eh...what's up doc?” asked Jeremy.

“Are you alone?” asked the snail. The voice at the other end was Dr. Cato Locusta. Jeremy's superior officer, and his lone contact, in Cipher Pol.

Less than a hundred yards in front of Jeremy lightning cracked and, a second later, thunder boomed.

“Yeah why?”

“Where's Captain Airheart?”

“Captain Airheart? Oh, you mean Volo. He's somewhere below deck banging Emilia.”

“Are you saying Volo has taken a lover? Is she a new member of the crew? I'll need to begin compiling a dossier on her. What's her surname? Does she have a formal position on the crew?” quizzed Dr. Locusta. Then his voice became stern. “You know Agent Filth this is exactly the type of information you are supposed to report back to me. As a Cipher Pol agent you should...”

From the other end of the snail Jeremy could hear papers rustling.

“Oh, that's right,” continued the doctor, “Emilia is the name of the ship. You meant that Volo was working on his ship.”

There was some unintelligible grumbling from Dr. Locusta's end.

“Harharharhar!” laughed Jeremy which irritated Dr. Locusta even more than the embarrassing misunderstanding.

“Stop laughing!” commanded the doctor. “When you speak to a superior officer such as myself you will communicate in a clear and precise manner. Do you understand?”

Jeremy rolled his eyes. He thought Cipher Pol was supposed to help him get away from annoying formalities and stick-in-the-mud superiors.

“Yes sir. I understand.”

“Good. Where are you now?”

“On lookout above deck. Why?”

“Can you make it to your quarters without Volo noticing?”

“You're being kind of generous calling them my quarters but yeah. Not a problem."  remarked Jeremy. "Why?"

The room Dr. Locusta spoke of was a windowless room below deck that was mostly empty except for an old cot where Jeremy slept and some miscellaneous knickknacks that “Bill” or Volo couldn't find a better place for. By comparison it made even the ramshackle old barracks back at boot camp seem lavish.

“You have an urgent mission on Baterilla that needs to be your top priority. It will be quick but you'll need to go alone. When you're finished you'll be returning to Volo so make sure your alibi to him is convincing enough that you don't blow your cover. Do you understand?”

Jeremy nodded.

“I understand. What's this new mission?”

“Good. There is a box on your bed containing all the details. Make sure you follow the instructions to the letter.”

“A box on my bed? When? How?”

“That's none of your concern. But...if I were a member of Captain Airheart's crew I would advise him to tighten security on his ship. His lookout is so inept that even a rookie spy can slip in and out unnoticed.”

“Good to know.” responded Jeremy. Dr. Locusta's jab wasn't unnoticed. While he would never admit it, Jeremy was embarrassed that Locusta's guy had been able to slip right under his nose like that.

“So about this mission...” continued Jeremy, only to be answered by a dial tone.

Jeremy looked down at the snail on his wrist. It no longer wore the plague mask. Jeremy shrugged and threw the snail into the sea.

781 / 781 / 5000

And on that fateful time, the next day...

If one asked Will, the optimal time to go eat at a restaurant was sometime between lunch and dinner. There would be seats, it wouldn't be as busy which gave a person a moment to just relax and calm down, and any food ordered would usually come by pretty quick. Only a fool would rush in when a place was packed to the brim, chained by their preconceived ideas as to when meals should be eaten. And today, Will had done just that. He had managed to find himself a place in his chosen time frame.

…Of course, that didn't matter much or give him the needed peace and quiet when the ship he had been on had just docked to Baterilla and all the rowdy sailors were there around him. Will had hitched a ride with the crew, working a short while as a doctor on board until he could hop to the next island, but that seemed to be enough time for them all to consider him as something of a member of their group. That, in turn, seemed to mean that he absolutely had to join them for their landing safely party – especially as it was going to be the doctor's final trip with them, so it ended up being something of a farewell party as well.

And despite insisting that it would be fine and he should just go already, alas, such a choice had not been given to him. So there he was, sandwiched between loud men built like shit brickhouses getting their drink on. He just had a glass of water.

Glass of water with a tiny little umbrella on it. Will had never been interested in tourist traps, and this area and establishment seemed to be fitting the description perfectly. He understood why, with the nice beaches and the nice weather – even if the time of day meant it was a tad too hot even for his liking, thanks to the moist, tropical air. The restaurant, if one could call it that, was not even a proper building. There was a thatched roof and the occasional woven fence to enclose the space slightly, but it was very much just a covered, outdoor eating area with a bar – and they definitely were embracing the tropical feel with their décor.

At least the roof provided shade from the sun, making everything slightly more tolerable even if the sweaty men around him were making things quite uncomfortable not just with their loudness, but also their body heat. And at least his very expensive glass of water with an umbrella – such a waste – was very cold and nice to drink. Honestly, all Will had wanted was a cup of tea, but surprise surprise, there were no hot drinks available. The water was nice, but it was no tea. He would have liked to find another, slightly cooler place to enjoy a hot cup of tea, but here he was, slowly grilled by the heat that made it inside despite the slight ocean breeze. That breeze was warm, after all.

The counter also probably wasn't the best place to try to nurse his drink as slowly as possible so he could avoid buying another while he was still held hostage by overly friendly bunch of sailors that were getting drunker by the minute. The staff had seen their chance at making a lot of money and had fired up the grill to show off their techniques with live fire. Will wasn't very hungry yet, so the food wasn't of too much interest to him. He did manage to taste some skewers made of local produce. The fruits certainly were fresh and tasty, but otherwise, he felt they were a bit plain to his taste…

A sigh escaped his lips. He was just going to have to keep it together for a while longer and then he could slip out once the rest stopped caring about him. Just a little while longer. Then he could find some proper shelter from the heat and enjoy his cup of tea.

January 6, 1829. Some hotel in Baterilla, after a long trip across North Blue to South Blue; after getting a request for a special job, rewarding her quite a heavy sum of beli, if she completed the job well. Of course our money hungry lady of the night would quickly take the chance of the job, and began making her way towards it. She didn't know much about the job, or who she'd be working for, but it didn't matter much.

---

Miki Satow flopped onto the bed of the hotel, she was staying in a rather nice place, nicer than most from what she was told as she had asked for directions; words about her attire, along with other unfavourable comments being made about other things as she passed through the city.

Miki sighed as she starred up at the ceiling, her body relaxing into the bed as she pondered about the day to come, she was able to relax for tonight but tomorrow in the morning she would need to head towards the location she was given and prepare for her day. She still wasn't sure what she was getting herself into but she knew that any amount of beli would give her a head start in the new life she was creating for herself. She smiled, she was getting close to her freedom, it was just a matter of time...

As she closed her eyes and drifted off to sleep, her nightmares took a hold; memories of her past flooding in as if the gateways opened, she usually didn't have nightmares like this anymore, and they were uncommon, but the likely hood of waking herself before the nightmare would come to fruition was unlikely. She would toss and turn, her body trembling in fear as she did.

Within what felt like years in her dream world, the alarm would begin to ring, loudly shaking her awake.

---

The next morning.

The sun shewn through the light curtains, her body felt stiff and uncomfortable, she moved ever so lightly to remove herself from the bed, she felt a stranger feeling, almost as if her legs were like jello... Her nightmares must have kept her body moving the entire night... She sighed, finally slipping out of bed as she headed towards the onsen to clean herself and ready for the day. It was going to be long, especially with the way her body was feeling. A deep inhale as she moved along, to the springs.

As she glanced towards the onsen, she quickly slipped into the door, paid her dues, and went to the women's showers, washing herself thoroughly before entering the springs. As she slipped down into the warmth of the water, she folded her towel, placing it on the side of the onsen, away from the water -- a quick soak would help the burning in her legs and back, as she relaxed her muscles.

Two hours passed, time got away from her as she looked towards the clock, gasping as she quickly gathered herself and her things, dressing in the change rooms -- wearing a beautiful jewel adored attire, black in color, matching what she normally would wear; but far more fancier than usual. Her body was perfectly toned, everything sitting in it's 'right spot' so to speak. Miki found her way to the restaurant where she was to meet her employer. With hope that the job wouldn't be to... Annoying, she sighed as she entered. Unsure of what she was walking into.

When the sun rose that next morning so did Jeremy. Just as Dr. Locusta had said, his spy had left a large, unmarked box in Bill's quarters. Volo and Bill were both messy and generally disorganized people. Cipher Pol must have known this realized Jeremy. That was why they felt comfortable leaving the box out in the open. Even if Volo had, for some reason, gone into the room before Jeremy the odds were slim to none that the pirate captain would really notice the unusual package. It would just be another box of who-knows-what sort of crap lying around below deck.

In the box was a strange-looking object wrapped in leather, a bathing suit, and a note. The note read:

Agent Filth,

Your next mission begins at dawn. As soon as the sun's up, take this package and swim to the nearest lighthouse. There you will find a man waiting for you. You can identify him by his large, red mustache. He will ask you for your code name. Tell him it's “Hotshot” and then deliver the object. He will give you further instructions.

DO NOT remove the leather wrappings from the object under any circumstances. Exposing it to air could be lethal for you and everybody around you. The wrappings are treated with special chemicals that keep it contained. Even the slightest tear could be deadly. Keep it close and keep it safe. Your life depends on it.

Before you leave, make sure you give Volo a good excuse for your absence. It's imperative that you maintain your cover as Bill Holiday. You'll be expected to return when this mission is complete.

Good luck Hotshot.

That last part was easy. Volo didn't exactly run a tight ship. In fact, it was looser than Loguetown's laws. Jeremy found a carpenter's pencil and a ticket for Missing / Expired Harbor Permits among some old tools lying around. The gunslinger smirked. They'd make Firebear'd the fleet admiral before Volo paid that ticket he thought. He flipped the ticket over, scrawled a quick note on the back, and left it laying on Emilia's steering wheel.

It read simply:

Doing stuff. Back later - Bill

Jeremy walked back to the crew quarters and disrobed. He stopped for a moment to look at the bathing suit and sighed. It was a speedo cut that was white with bright pink polka-dots. Jeremy knew a rib when he saw one. Oh well, he shrugged just before putting it on. Hopefully the doctor had a good laugh when he picked it out.

Jeremy turned his attention to the weird object he was supposed to take with him. At first he tried to pick it up gingerly. Then when that didn't work, he wrapped his arms around it tightly and, with just a little bit of effort, he hoisted it up and onto his shoulders. The object had some weight to it. About 15 maybe 30 kilos by his estimate but it was awkwardly shaped and the weight distribution was uneven in all the worst ways. The many pointed corners and sharp edges that were all over the whatever-the-hell-it-was didn't help.

There was no way, he realized, that he was ever going to be able to swim all the way to shore with it. Jeremy placed the object down carefully as if he was worried it might explode or something if he was too rough. After looking around the room for a second it suddenly dawned on him.

It was so obvious...He just needed some rope.

Luckily that was one thing any half-decent ship had plenty of. Even Emilia, whose captain was usually less prepared than most, had all sorts of the stuff just lying around. It only took a little bit of searching for Jeremy to find some bundled up in some corner of one of the corridors just outside the crew quarters. With just a little bit of jerry-rigging Jeremy was able to secure the package to his back. Once he was satisfied that the object wasn't going anywhere the young gun made his way up to the deck and dove overboard.

The lighthouse was about five kilometers away and the water was icy cold that morning. It was just like being back in boot camp Jeremy thought. He remembered the training he'd been put through as a marine. Recruits were often made to swim for hours at a time. The ones that showed signs of haki like Jeremy had were marked as exceptional. They were pushed harder and made to swim further, faster, for longer.

Five kilometers in under an hour was the standard for graduation. That was without gear. If they had to do it with gear then the instructors generously gave the recruits an hour and a half to do it. The cold was no new sensation either. The instructors often went out of their way to make the recruits go for these swims when the water was at its coldest. On more than one occasion Jeremy had come out of the water shivering violently with skin that was starting to turn varying sickly shades of blue and purple and joints that had become stiff and painful.

The big difference this time was the state Jeremy was in. It had only been a few days since the incident on what used to be the island of LogInn where a simple meet and greet mission had somehow turned into a destructive deathmatch. Jeremy and Volo had won the fight but both of them had received a long list of injuries as their only prize. Of course, neither one of them had bothered to see a doctor since then but Volo at least had the devil's assistance to help heal his body. Jeremy wasn't so lucky. The best he could do was patch himself up using whatever makeshift medical supplies he could scrounge up onboard. Like window cleaner for disinfectant, booze for painkilling, and a combination of duct tape and paper towels to stop the bleeding.

The storm had left the seas in a rough shape. The currents were strong and the waves were large. The whole way in it felt as though the ocean was trying to drag him back out. When he finally made it to land about an hour and some change later, and his feet touched the cold wet sand, he was shivering violently, his skin was discolored and his joints were locking up. Just like old times. He was also breathing heavy, and could barely think. Blood and seawater dripped off of him. Old cuts had opened up and hauling that uncomfortably sharp package had made some new ones on his back.

“Almost there.” thought the exhausted agent as he gazed up at the lighthouse from the beach.

“Just one more step,” he told himself. Over and over again as he forced his worn-out body to trudge to the lighthouse.

At the base of the lighthouse was a man with a rotund torso and surprisingly skinny limbs. He was bald everywhere, not even any eyebrows, except for a big, bushy red mustache. The mustache matched the man's red and black suit and ruby red goggles. It might have been the exhaustion and early stages of hypothermia talking but oddly, Jeremy thought, the man seemed to pull that look off.

The two exchanged some quick pleasantries and Jeremy gave the mustached man his new code name. It was just like the doctor said. The man took the package from Jeremy and led the young agent into the lighthouse. Inside he was sent up to the master bathroom and told to clean himself up and get changed.

Hanging from the back of the door was a nice looking suit. Freshly starched and dry cleaned from the looks of it. At the base of the bathroom sink were a pair of freshly polished dress shoes. On the counter of the sink itself was an assortment of ointments, bandages, and some rubbing alcohol. There was even some flesh colored makeup with another note taped to the lid that explicitly instructed Jeremy to use it to “cover up those unsightly tattoos”.

Jeremy took his time getting ready. At first, the hot water was like pins and needles on his cold skin but soon his body warmed and his muscles began to relax. The soap and shampoo smelled like sunshine and citrus and after the initial shock, the hot water felt incredible. It was the first time he had bathed in about a week, and the first time since before boot camp that he'd been able to enjoy it instead of just rushing through a cold shower with a bar of soap. Truthfully he probably would have stayed in longer if he wasn't afraid the relaxing sensation might have made him fall asleep.

When he finally emerged from that bathroom he was cleaner than he'd been in months. He was dressed to the nines in a nice suit. His various cuts and scrapes had been properly cleaned and covered. And his bruises and tattoos had become hidden by the makeup. Even his teeth were brushed and his hair slicked back. He felt like a proper gentleman spy. All he needed now was a dry martini and a pretty woman or two.

“This is going to kick ass.”

“You ready?” asked the man with the mustache.

Jeremy nodded. “Yeah.”

The man with the mustache walked over to a snail on the wall and picked up the receiver.

“Yeah, it's me,” he said to whoever was on the other end. “Yeah, we're coming. Go get the marks. Yeah, we'll be there in a second. Got it. Yeah, no problem.”

The mustached man hung up and turned to Jeremy. “They said to check your coat pocket. There's another note for you.

Jeremy put his hands into his jacket and pulled out a handkerchief. Folded into it was another note. More instructions. Probably telling him who the bad guys were and what they were up to. He was going to save the world and look damn good doing it. He smiled as he began to read it.

And suddenly his smile faded.

Jeremy looked down at the suit. The contents of the note made him see it in a whole new light and suddenly he couldn't wait to get out of it. He wasn't some suave super-spy off to save the world as he thought. This new persona was meek and mild. Subservient. Pacified. Neutered. He was a...

...Butler.

“Let's just get this over with,” complained Jeremy as he followed the mustached man out of the lighthouse.

“This is going to suck.”

1779 / 2560 / 5000