[Episode] Hockey Lessons

The hulking abomination of fused wood and metal that was Emilia stuck out like a sore thumb in the cloudless sky. Smoke sputtered from the exhaust as she floated through the clear skies of South Blue, the whining and clanking of machinery accompanying her, drowning out the squawking of gulls as they scattered to avoid a collision with the blimp.

The ship's captain, Volo Rosso, hung off the side of the deck as he stared down at the sea below. His dangling legs swung back and forth as Susu danced on his shoulder each time a berry was plucked from the vine and handed to the squirrel. "Ya like that, huh?" Volo smiled as he popped another berry in the flying rodent's mouth.

It had been a few days since the events on Baterilla with the marines and, unknowingly to the newfound crew, the Moosebella Crime family's associates. Though they were starting to catch onto the Red Wing Pirates trail, their identities were still safe, for now, that is.

The pi(lot)rate's eyes drifted back out over the sea as the smile faded from his face. He found himself stuck on the words Lt. Noda from the marines had drilled into him during their fight. His thoughts drifted back to his childhood, building Emilia with his sister and dreaming about being free to fly wherever they wanted. A pained look took over his face as tears welled up in his eyes for a moment before he wiped them away.

"Shit." Mumbling, he shot to his feet and stormed off towards the engine room where he kept all his tools. With a slam, he locked himself inside and immediately started banging away, something anyone on the ship could easily hear.

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"Hey! Do you have a sewing kit?"

A questioning shout came out from the cabin to which he was led as per Volo's suggestion. It was Karl, looking for a sewing kit that might not even exist on this ship. Well, saying that it's a ship is only the half-truth. What he was aboard on was frankly something that he had never seen before in his entire life. It was a very industrial-looking ship... That was carried by a massive metal skeleton-covered balloon powered by multiple steam engines, both visible and not visible from outside. Most commonly it is known as a blimp.

He sighed as he very carefully walked around this god-awful room that he was in. The room was reeking of cigarettes and was full of cigarette buds all across the room, along with ashtrays full of them. Despite being quite a smoker himself, even he found this to be a disgusting sight. At least someone could look after their ship a little bit.

This however was not his biggest problem of being aboard this said 'ship'. It was more about the fact that there was a lack of actual "solid" ground. He was walking around a ship that was floating in the air! He just couldn't help but feel extremely uneasy in this situation, even scared. What if the ship was about to fall? The drop would be quite big... And probably be a sure death following that. At least when on the sea, there's a lack of falling risk from the sky... But that doesn't erase the fact that the moment he falls inside the water, he would go down like a man sent to sleep with the fishes.

The simple stopping point Baterilla for Karl ended up tangling him in a misadventure, involving Volo who enjoyed blowing things up a little bit too much. Coinless and later found out wounds from his latest combat... This was the only way out of the Baterilla.

"Why did I agree to any of this?"

He continued to mumble softly to himself while continuing his seemingly fruitless search, somewhat regretting his life choices at the current moment. There just was no way to find anything in this mess of organization... Who even made the layouts on this ship?!

A simple process of elimination would obviously point to the captain of the ship, Volo. Just as he was about to give up the search and settle with the fact that his barman's vest and shirt were torn in places, he found a tin container. Upon opening the tin, however, he was met by, let's just say, an expected "surprise".

Even the tin container that was in one of the cabinets was full of ash and cigarette buds. How is that even possible?! With a heavy sigh, he was scanning what was inside the tin box, because it wasn't just full of buds and ash. There was also a very small extra container in the tin container itself. And behold! Karl has struck gold! He managed to sniff it all out! He had found... The sewing kit.

"Why couldn't it just be outside of this tin container..."

With a shaking head, he placed the ash and buds-filled tin container away and very carefully proceeded out from the stinking cabin he was sent to, together with the sewing kit box. Next task! Fix his damned clothes. It was highly unlikely they were going to land any time soon, so why not use this time to fix things up. Why replace something when you are able to just fix it?

With cold air breeze blowing his hair around, he was looking for a "solid" and clean enough place to sit, where he could feel safe on this damned airship hanging in the air off from a balloon. This was a challenge on its own. Despite the air blowing, there still were smoke buds lying around, a lot of them looking fresh as well... How is that even possible?! It feels like this ship really is owned by a pig of a person...

While removing some of his clothes, a familiar metal object fell out of his pocket, creating a clanking sound. Karl immediately placed the tin container down and grabbed the object. It was his lighter, thanks to which all of his latest misadventures happened.

He very carefully leaned back and looked down at the lighter. This said item reminded him of just what had happened very recently. The moment when he found out who actually had the lighter... Volo himself. He remembers the desire to punch the living out of the man.

"How the actual hell... Do you put the lighter in your boot?"

The man asked lowly himself... Truly... Who does that?

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Bill Holiday was bored.

The gunslinger was laid out on top of the great big balloon, soaking up the sunlight and polishing off the last bit of bourbon in the last bottle on board the blimp. Even the weather was boring. The breeze was nice but there were no clouds in the sky nor waves in the ocean. Just flat, motionless water as far as he could see. He had gone up top with some booze and a rifle full of bullets looking for some excitement by taking pot shots at buoys or seabirds. But so far, he had seen nothing sky and sea.

“Fuuuuuuuuuuck,” he groaned.

Boozing and schmoozing with the rest of the small crew only went so far for so long. The restless young gun craved literally any type of action. No wonder, he thought, that he had heard so many stories about sailors succumbing to ocean madness. It was enough to drive anybody insane. Bill was not a religious man, but at that moment, he prayed for literally anything to come along and provide him with litterally any type of entertainment.

As luck would have it, his prayers were answered.

Bill's ears perked up. From down below, he could hear Volo banging away and Karl grumbling and mumbling. Though from so far up, it was hard to tell what it was all about. It sounded like something about a lighter.

When the gunslinger focused all of his senses on the situation, he could feel the gentlemanly barman's rage beginning to bubble up. Bill realized that if he threw just a little bit of fuel on that fire, it would turn into a rolling boil. That would be fun to watch, he thought. Besides, he reckoned, if he could start a fight between Karl and Volo, his seniors back at Cipher Pol would appreciate the intel on his crewmates' combat capabilities.

Bill jumped up from his position and sprang onto the nearest ladder. He was so giddy with anticipation that he practically slid down the metal structure on his way to the deck. After he landed, he took a second to regain his composure before he casually strolled up behind Karl.

“If you want Volo to quit messin' with your stuff you shouldn't ask nicely,” said Bill matter-of-factly to the barman. He made sure to lay it on thick with his southern drawl.

“Captain's as stubborn as a concrete mule. He won't listen to word you say if he thinks he can jus' kick you 'round like an unwanted dog. You need to quit whining like some toothless bitch and tell him not to touch your shit.”

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A sigh escaped Karl's lips. As he had sat down and removed his clothes, before he reached over to the tin box full of sewing kit, he took a cigarette from the package that was contained in his pants pocket and lit it up with the same lighter that they were chasing after.

As he sucked on the filter end of the cigarette and inhaled the smoke into the lungs with one corner of the mouth, and let the smoke out with the other end of the mouth, he would not hand the smoking part and with his hands, he picked up the tin box and opened it up, taking a needle from it and a piece of black string.

He closed his left eye and focused hard on the right one while trying to keep his hands steady. The goal was to push the small string through the needle loop and tie a small knot around it.

After multiple tries, just as the ash from the smoking end of the cigarette was about to drop, Karl was successful in his attempts. The needle with the string was ready to work, well, Karl was ready to work with it. Not to mention he had just managed to flick some ash off the cigarette in time.

"Rats... I forgot to pick up the ashtray..."

He placed the needle down and began to crawl his way towards the edge of the ship. The closer he was to the ship's floor rather than the edge of the ship, the better. The least he could do to keep the ship cleaner on his part was to not throw the cigarette ash or buds down on the ground!

He was as far away as he could from the edge railing of the ship, but close enough to flick the ash off. Was it the best idea, not in Karl's opinion, but just one-time thing! As if things were not already scary enough, his heart must've skipped a beat when a familiar face landed down on the metal deck.

The cigarette slipped away from between his fingers, all the way down towards the distant ocean. "What?! We are falling?!" the man crawled away from the edge railing, only to then notice Bill standing there.

"WE ARE ON A FLYING SHIP! DON'T EVER JUMP DOWN LIKE THAT!"

Was it for what Karl had just said, or was it for what he had said earlier, either way, Bill went and commented on something that involved Volo? While his words carried the truth, Karl did feel he should have said something earlier, what followed that sentence was the last straw to an already frightened man regretting every decision in his life so far.

"Who are you calling a bitch, you bitch?"

The hands moved towards the back pocket of his pants, two black leather gloves were taken from there which were then put on, only to have the fists then ooze with purple liquid. "I'll find a way to burn this entire ship down if it means we can go back to regular sailing!"

[515/1306/5000]

The machinery echoed out from the closed engine room from the early morning hours on, clanking and grinding, the whirring of blades spinning. Flashes of light coming and going from the small gap at the bottom.

Volo was up to something, something that seemed to require quite a bit of noise to do. Almost as much as Bill and Karl had begun to make out on the deck. "Hey guys check it ou-...!" Volo shouted with a large smile, holding up a freshly made Jolly Roger. Their Jolly Roger.

That is before he witnessed the pair brawling on deck.

"Woah, hey!" Volo shouted as he launched himself into the fray, smiling wide from ear to ear. "Lemme get in on this!" Erratically maneuvering through the air to send a smoke-powered kick towards each of the clashing men.

Interior of the ship

Susu scurried across the metal floor with haste, his little paws echoing with every adorable step. Like a skilled ninja, he would parkour over and across every obstacle that stood in his way.

He had one mission, and one mission only.

To destroy everything that was Bill Holiday.

A fire burned inside the little rodent, one kept lit from pure hatred. An obsessive compulsion to ruin and destroy. Some call it revenge. Others vengeance. But most, most just call it Susu...

He came to the door to the crew's quarters. Home now to both Karl and Bill. Squeezing under the door, he crept in the shadows as he came to the hotshot's bunk. He was careful to stay on the rim of the bed, leaving no trace of his visit behind.

He was a ghost.

Sniffing and snuffing, the squirrel's olfactory senses were going wild as he made it to Bill's duffle bag. His enemy had a particular.....stench. His tiny nose wrinkled in disgust as he dug deeper and deeper into the bag until something particular caught his eye.

Popping his head from the bag, Susu unfolded a piece of paper to reveal a scribbled blueprint of Emilia, key points of the machine highlighted with notes. The squirrel, having recognized the prints from seeing them hundreds of times in Volo's quarters began to grow even more suspicious of the cowpoke.

"Squeaaaaak....." Susu muttered as had a disgusted squint to them.

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“Know what!? I'm callin' you a bitch! Bitch!” cursed Bill.

Already agitated as Bill was, Karl's response was like throwing a fist full of gunpowder into a bonfire, setting the hot-headed gunman off with a bang. Bill was just trying to help the bartender, and maybe entertain himself in the process, but now the ungrateful jerk-off was acting like he wanted to throw hands with him instead.

Fine. If Karl wanted an ass-whupping so badly, Bill thought, then he'd be happy to hand him one.

Bill clenched his fists and put his hands up as he stepped toward Karl with bad intentions only to suddenly stop in his tracks a split second later. A strong, repugnant smell that burned inside of his nostrils caught his nose and drew his eyes towards a strange purple liquid oozing from Karl's gloves.

“What the hell? Poison?!”

Bill's fight or flight kicked in as the situation suddenly escalated from a simple fist fight into a fight for life or death. He was no boxer but could sure as hell brawl. Without another word nor a moment of hesitation, he fired off a hooking shot with his right hand at Karl's head. His flying fist hardened and turned black with haki mid-swing.

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A devastating blow by a mysterious black fist landed on Karl's face, sending him stumbling and rolling backward... But to really call it that devastating was an over-exaggeration. The blow was solid, leaving a red mark on Karl's left cheek, but not one to keep Karl down as he had finished his backward rolling and regained his stance on one of his knees.

"You hit like a bitch!"

His hand reached out to the closest object that he could find, which happened to be a barrel full of some mystery liquid. The barrel was held above his head and then hurled towards Bill. The barrel could serve multiple purposes in this fight... A distraction, or a solid hit.

Karl decided to make sure either one of those purposes went through and immediately followed the flying barrel. If either Bill got hit by it, he would stop in his track... If he dodged it, however, he had planned to go for an immediate assault with his leg.

Fortunately for Bill, it was Volo who stopped Karl in his tracks towards him. The captain of the ship was thirsty for a fight aswell.

"Volo! Your beloved ship will go down voluntarily by you or by me!"

The kick with the leg that was for Bill now went towards the third player in this fight, Volo. He raised the leg and tried to land a fast and solid kick in Volo's teeth... But Karl was forgetting something, or perhaps he did not understand it exactly... The normal punches did not seem to work on him... Perhaps this time he's lucky?

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Volo watched as Bill's blackened fist sent Karl flying across the room, "Ha! Should've dodged it!"

"Must suck having to get hit like that all the time!" His snickering stopped as he watched Karl toss their supplies across the deck toward Bill. "Woah! Not the booze!" The pi(lot)rate shouted, using his powers to intercept the barrel in midair before carefully stowing it out of harm's way. "Not cool man! Just cause you're getting your ass kicked doesn't mean you can't waste our alcohol!"

"You'd think a bartender would have more respect for the stuff."

His jeering must've pissed the bartender off even more, as Karl shouted in a fit of rage, sending a poison-cloaked fist right through Volo's ethereal body. "C'mon Karl!" Volo snickered as he countered with a punch of his own.

"You know you can't hit me without seastone! Wahoohahahah!"

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“Oh shit!” exclaimed Bill.

He quickly stumbled back toward the ship's guardrail and threw his hands up in front his face as he braced himself for the impact of the makeshift missile. But the impact never came. In a desperate attempt to save the valuable contents within, Captain Airheart had intercepted the barrel mid-flight.

Bill put his hands down just as Volo began to run his mouth. The words that Volo spoke next were like fire to Bill Holiday. They burned like hot coals in the gunslinger's ears and brought the hotshot's hot tempter to a roiling boil.

“You sons of bitches told me that we was outta booze!” he bellowed. There was a fire in his eyes and a red-hot rage in his voice.

It was right around then that Volo began talking shit about how he couldn't be hit. That gave Bill an idea. He raised his fists and advanced toward Volo with violent intent.

“I bet ya 10 thousand berries I can smack you right your smart-ass mouth,” declared the gunslinger.

Bill didn't wait for his captain to respond. He quickly threw a straight shot with his haki coated right fist right at Volo's jaw.

---

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"Who said we were out of booze...?" He questioned before turning his attention back to Karl, squinting his eyes suspiciously. "Looks like somebodies got some 'splainin to do!"

Though, before Karl could respond, Bill issued his challenge. Something that appealed to Volo's arrogance.

Volo snickered at Bill's big talk, going so far as to billow smoke in an ethereal fashion from his face. "Doesn't matter how much berries ya got, without seastone ya can't hit me!" The pi(lot)rate brandished a cocky smile as he leaned forward, giving Bill an easy shot to the chin.

Upping the ante, Volo tapped his chin several times, adding fuel to Bill's fire.

It was at this moment Volo knew he fucked up.

A blackened fist connected with the pi(lot)rate's unsuspecting chin, the same one he served to Bill on a platter. The arrogance he met the punch with had quickly taken its leave. Almost as quickly as his body was tossed into Emilia's metal walls.

"Fuuuuuuuckkkk..!" He groaned, rubbing his jaw in disbelief. "How the hell...." His eyes now locked onto Bill's blackened fist. "The fuck did you just do...?!"

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“Y'all ain't never heard of haki?” exclaimed Bill in bewilderment. “When I was in the Marines-”

Bill stopped himself midsentence as Jeremy panicked. The sudden realization that he was a hair's breadth away from blowing his cover came just a second too late.

“Fuck it.” he thought. “Just go with it.”

He would have to hope and pray that the split-second pause in his speech did not raise too many red flags with the other two. Thankfully his captain was an idiot.

“-Before I got thrown out for throwin' hands with the prick above me.” continued Bill. “They told me all about this haki stuff. Some mumbo-jumbo about the power of your will and whatnot. Makes your skin hard and your senses sharp. Lets ya do things like punch logias and see the future. In fact, I bet ya another thousand you can't hit me hard enough to leave a mark.”

Bill turned his head toward Karl.

“That goes double for you bar bitch.”

---

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"Who said anything about touching you?"

The life of Karl has been full of very unfortunate events, some could even call them accidents... This is another one of those events. At this point, Karl had been dragged into an all-out fight between him, the captain of the crew, and Bill who seems to brag about his great power.

Bill's words played in Karl's head. He could not touch him to hurt him, allegedly by Bill himself... But was that really true? He knew a way he could get to him, but the man was wearing a mask that probably would stop that attempt of his... That left him with trying something else.

Karl grunted a bit, gritting his teeth, and began to lift his hands up as if he was trying to lift something. Judging by the motion of his arms, it felt like it's heavy. With the purple oozing potion leaving his body, it begun to create shadow over the deck that they were standing on.

The silky purple ooze was creating a floating carpet, wide enough to try and cover Bill, and even Volo of he chose to stand on the deck. All there was no left was to drop it. Were he stopped right there and right now, the carpet would probably drop on the whole deck, and all over everything on it.

Karl had created a situation, where he might get hurt... But so would probably others. The only thing that would hurt him in this very situation, was his own creation.

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The air thickened with the poisonous smog from Karl's black blob of death, slowly beginning to eat away at the ship itself.

"YO!" Volo shouted in a commanding tone, something very out of character for him. "That's enough."

The pi(lot)rate stepped in front of Karl before addressing Bill. "This Hockey stuff... Tell me more."

Seal Town | South Blue

Emilia sputtered through the air, descending slowly toward the small port town nestled in the bright waters of South Blue. Surviving as a quick-stop trade port between Centuria and Torino. Acting as a midway point of sorts.

Volo's teal hair tussled in the wind, popping seeds into his mouth as he leaned over the railing. Susu made his way to the young man's shoulder as he offered a seed to his squirrel pal. "Looks like there's plenty of room on the other side of that island.

"This should work, eh Bill?"

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[info]Thread archived upon request from @Karl Friedrich.[/info]