One Piece; The Great Pirate Era

Although Blood was getting picked on, quite a lot by this captain in fact, Flint was mostly unscathed by the insults and foolery of them. Well except for being tied up.

He listened to what most of them had to say, especially the captain, but all of their talk proved little to interest him. "No, we're not spies." He replied, but not as energetic as he normally did. "Why, do you have a big treasure at the bottom of your ship?" Flint asked, but more so out of curiosity. Greed and taking whatever it was for himself hardly crossed his mind.

After hearing Flint's comment, the crew looked at one another, starting to believe that perhaps they weren't spies after all.

"No," the captain answered to Flint's question. He then looked at Flint and Blood for another moment as if trying to ponder whether or not to go into any sort of details. "We're running...from the Judge."

The entire crew suddenly grew silent as if the sheer name brought up unwanted memories. The captain continued to stare at the two as if trying to see if he could find a fault in their expression that would give away them being spies.

For Blood, he didn't see anything that would suggest he was a spy. In fact, he looked confused. Or, at the very least, he didn't seem to know who the Judge was. He also looked pretty irritated. And drunk.

At first Flint thought he heard the man say that they were on the run from fudge, which sounded quite tasty actually. However he soon brought the words together, which came to be Judge. He wasn't much for politics or any of that nature, so he soon after frowned.

"You mean those people who pound big mallets and wear goofy wigs?" Flint asked, before going into deep thought. "They say something...what was it? Something about orders? Oh yeah! Order Order!"

Blood rolled his eyes at Flint's comment but he didn't say anything.

The captain frowned a little at Flint's comment. Yeah, he was pretty sure they weren't spies.

"Yes, he's that kind of Judge. Only far worse," the captain responded. "but it's a long story and we still haven't killed you yet."

"Heh, You could try," Flint remarked to the captain's last words. "But you'll be in far worse trouble then that Judge of yours."

Instead of proving himself, breaking free of the ropes, or fighting, he simply remained seated where he was. "So this judge person is after you, so what?" He responded. "It's not like it has anything to do with us, so we'll just be going..."

However once he turned his head to see where his washtub boat was, he noticed it was drifting far away from the ship now. Alarmed, he leaned over, before yelping. "Augh! My boat! My food!" He said, seeing it all slipping away, before turning back to look at the captain. "You jerk!"

"You gotta be kidding!" Blood said as he saw their boat drifting out to sea. Although he wasn't very fond of it, even he knew it was a necessity until they found something else. Blood then looked at the captain, taking in what he had said. "Seems to me this Judge is a lot of trouble for you..." Blood said but this was mostly meant as an observation.

The captain didn't say anything but raised his eyebrow, trying to figure out where Blood was going with this.

"Hey Flint, why don't you show the captain your little trick," Blood suggested. "The one you used to defeat Big Johnny and Rum Drum."

"But don't overdo it," Blood added shortly after, indicating that he just wanted a demonstration and didn't want Flint to exert all his energy.

The crew didn't know what to make of Blood's comments: they weren't sure if it was an empty threat or something they should be worried about.

However as Blood was shouting and then informing Flint what to do, he was simply slumped over the ship's ledge, as he watched their washtub boat drift away. If he could, he would had reached out longingly, yet he couldn't because he was roped.

"My boat...I worked so hard to get it..." He said in a depressed tone, "My food, it's leaving me...why..."

"Forget about the boat!" Blood was now yelling. "We're about to be killed over here so use your devil fruit power already!"

"Jesus, I can't even negotiate with this idiot," Blood couldn't help but to think.

By this point, the captain was about ready to just kill the two of them and be done with it. They were becoming a complete nuisance and bore. However, upon hearing 'devil fruit power', the captain's mood seemed to change.

"Did you say devil fruit power?" the captain asked as he came closer to the two though mostly examining Flint. He didn't bother to wait for Blood to confirm his question (although Blood did give a gruff "Yeah") "What kind of power do you have?"

Growling angrily at Blood's comment, Flint pressed his forehead against his drunken crew member's. "We worked hard to get that boat, jerk! How can you say that!?"

However he didn't say or act much to anything else Blood had to say, until he heard the captain speak again. Mostly about the purpose of his devil fruit powers. "Heh, I have the power to kick your ass." He replied, as he and Blood were tied down and kneeling on the ship's floor.

However he slowly rose to his feet, before head butting the captain who was close enough to him. Without waiting for his reaction, he then lunged and bite the rope on Blood, keeping it clenched in his teeth. He knelt downwards like he had done so when he attacked Big John and Rum Drum Johnny.

Without missing a beat, he was ready. "Hold on Hawkins." He said through his teeth, with the rope still clenched onto it. But hold on to what? Suddenly a shock-wave of air blew from all directions, as he and Blood were propelled upwards.

They flew to great distances, up to where the upper parts of the ship. However Flint couldn't hold onto Hawkins rope, as the force became to powerful. The rope simply slipped through his teeth, before Flint twirled three times, and landed on the T section of the mast. He didn't do so flawlessly, especially without the use of his legs and arms, and swayed almost losing his balance with a yelp. Luckily he managed to stay upright and on the top.

Unfortunately Hawkins spiraled over the mast's sails and downwards, wherever he went was anyone's gamble. And where they once were propelled, was a decent hole, aiming straight down to the lower quarters.

Taken completely off-guard, the captain held onto his forehead as he stepped back from Flint and Blood. A few other crew members suddenly went on the offensive seeing that their captain had been attacked. However, the captain waved them off.

"Hey, what are you doing!?" Blood said as he suddenly saw his plan was going completely downwards and that Flint was preparing to do something that he no doubt imagined to be stupid to a certain degree.

Just as they were being propelled into the air, Blood grabbed onto the rope for dear life. However, Flint couldn't hold onto him and he was therefore launched into a bunch of barrels filled with water.

The crew watched in amazement at Flint's ability and many looked at the hole Flint had created. In particular, the captain looked especially pleased.

"That was amazing, you're hired!" the captain called out to Flint. However, realizing that Flint probably had no idea what he had insinuated, the captain continued. "If you defeat the Judge for us, we'll give you a new boat and plenty of food."

As the captain spoke with Flint, Blood staggered to get up. His gunshot wound was irritated and he clasped it as he got up.

"There, you see, we're getting you a new boat," Blood called up to Flint, hoping that would get him to shut the hell up for once.

At first Flint was confused as to why he was hired, but upon hearing that they were going to get a boat and some food to boot, he smiled gleefully. "Oh is it your boat!?" Flint asked happily, only to be shot down quickly enough when he noticed the captain's crew members jeers and remarks.

Still atop the mast and roped, Flint unintentionally fell, rolling down the sail, before hitting the ship's floor. He squirmed and wiggled, as he tried to get out of his trap. "Stupid rope!" He growled, before tugging and biting it, "Get off of me!"

Once he was free, he dusted himself off, before rising with a smile. "Throw in a big feast, and you got yourself a deal." He added, "We took out the Rum Drum Pirates, this judge should be easy enough."

Blood sighed uneasily as Flint fell down and found himself entangled in the rope. He wasn't worried about Flint's safety but rather whether or not the captain wouldn't take the deal anymore.

But the captain seemed un-phased by Flint's goofy behavior. And Blood could have sworn he was probably figuring worse case scenario they'd both get killed in the process. Which would fix at least one of the crew's problems either way.

"Done," the captain said immediately. "I'm Trouillefou, King of the Gypsies and Captain of the Court of Miracles."

Patting his stomach happily, Flint grinned. "Alright! I can already taste that grilled fish!" He exclaimed, before taking in the captain's introduction. "That's a long title, Mr. Trooeefoo. I'm Flint, the future's greatest sharpshooter and a pirate." He then looked over to Hawkins, before pointing to him.

"And he's my first crew-member, Hawkins. I don't know what he's supposed to be, except drunk."

"And the guy that keeps saving your ass," Blood mumbled but this was mostly to himself.

"You can just call me Captain then," Trouillefou said as he looked over at the two once more. However, it was clear he was no longer interested in introductions. Or small talk. He then looked over towards his helmsman. "Set a course for the Island of Bells."

"So, what are we up against with this Judge?" Blood asked as Captain Trouillefou went watched over his men preparing the ship. The captain pivoted around.

"The Judge ate a devil fruit and now has the power to create fire at whim. He calls it the Fiery Pits of Hell," the captain answered.

As the ship began to turn around, Flint smiled even more eagerly as adventure was around the corner. Holding onto his cap in the strong winds, as the ship was turning, he shook with anticipation.

Once the ship was turned around and ready to go enroute to its next destination, he overheard Hawkins and the captain's conversation, and casually walked over. "Oh that sounds neat! We should really get someone like that to join our crew! We could use some hot-meals whenever!"

Blood slapped his forehead at Flint's comment. However, he quickly let out a yelp and removed his hand: the sting on his forehead still hurt. And badly.

"It isn't neat when you're being burned at the stake," Captain Trouillefou replied lowly with a hint of bitterness. He then looked towards a few more crew members. "Take Hawkins below to get treated. We need him as fit as possible after all." There was a hint of playfulness in his last statement. "And if you want, there's food down there as well," he added towards Flint but it was clear he wanted someone down there to make sure he didn't go crazy. As the two went down below, Captain Trouillefou remained on deck.

Once again Flint listened to, but rarely responded to the words of others that interested him the least. However the mention of food caught his attention greatly, as he allowed a large smile to come across his face.

"Would I!?" He exclaimed, as hurried downwards the ship's lower levels. The ship's crew would not let just anyone down there, especially not a stranger, and Flint of all people. So a few of them followed him like a hawk, watching for any funny business or stupidity.

However he just rushed down to the pantry and kitchen at the bottom. Or at least he thought it was one. In fact he wasn't sure about anything with this ship, but managed to find a large room with tables, chairs, and many barrels and crates. There was too many things to choose from, as he eyed them all eagerly. Quickly he choose a barrel, rushing towards it, and yanked the top off. It revealed a bunch of apples, filled to the very top. Happily he grabbed two, one for each hand, before chowing down on them.

Before long, night settled over the sea. As they were approaching closer towards the Island of Bells, the once colorful sails had been replaced with standard white ones. Those above deck were no longer wearing the clothes that at once would identify them as gypsies and instead wore whatever they could to cover most of their features. Though, there were as few members on deck as possible.

However, below the Court of Miracles, was as lively as ever. It was by no means a feast of any kind but it was simply a regular evening on the gypsy ship. But to those who weren't accustomed to their culture, it would appear to be a party. There was music and dancing with plenty of drinks to go around. Many laughed until told to keep it down by those keeping guard above only to once again have the sheer volume of the room rise again.

Captain Trouillefou sat at the head of the main table with his feet hanging over one of the armrests while his back rested against the other. He looked pleased to see the crew happy though there was also a hint of wariness as they came closer to their home.

Blood was sitting next to Flint and was already drunk. His forehead was no longer stinging nearly as badly (and this wasn't because of the alcohol he was currently drinking).

"Trust me, I'll be fine," he was saying reassuringly to some of the crew who looked skeptically at all the drinks he had had. He was, after all, going to be going into battle tomorrow if they got there on schedule. And none of the gypsies wanted a drunk man fighting for them even if Flint was also by his side.

Once Flint had eaten a handful of apples, he was plenty full. It was enough to subside his hunger until this amazing feast he was going to earn, after kicking the Judge's ass. Whoever and whatever he was, besides spitting fire or something.

Through the passing time that he was on their ship, he spent observing the lower and upper decks of this boat. It was quite a vessel, and he inspected each nook and cranny. One day he would earn a boat like this, which excited him greatly.

Meanwhile a few of the crew members, with hammers, nails and, boards, were closing in the hole that Flint had created. Though suddenly it was evening and the sun had settled to a dark, yet peaceful night.

Except for inside the ship, that was very lively. Completely confused as to why his feast was coming early, Flint didn't question it. Instead Flint watched as several of the members danced and sung merrily, spinning around each other happily.

Grabbing a large grilled tasty fish on a stick, he began to gnaw on it happily. This was by far much better then apples. He also had a large drink in hand, which was just juice from many crushed apples. "Alright, now this is what I call a feast!" He exclaimed, before drinking heavily from the mug, he then gasped refreshingly.

"Hey Captain guy, what's with the celebration, I thought this was supposed to come after the fight?" He asked curiously. "What do you think I'm not going to make it and this is your last meal or something?" He said, not really asked, in a playful and energetic tone, before he laughed.

"This isn't a celebration, it's just dinner," the Captain replied. "You will get your celebrations sure enough."

Captain Trouillefou then sat up a bit in his seat.

"On the Island of Bells we used to hold celebrations throughout the year for the townspeople. Entertainment was our specialty." He then nodded towards a woman playing a tambourine with a small goat by her side.

"Well I'll say," Blood remarked as he was drinking some wine. He couldn't wait to see what sort of celebration they got if this was just dinner.

"Celebration, dinner," Flint said tossing around the words, as he used his two hands gesturally, almost tossing his fish on a stick away by accident. "What's the difference?"

He then soon spotted the tiny and cute goat, before rushing up to him. "Hey neat!" He exclaimed, rubbing it's head, "So is he part of the dinner to?" He asked, before his mouth began to drool, "Cause I'm so very hungry." Flint added, staring directly at the goat, as if on the prowl for his meal.

As the goat bleated and hid in fear, the woman hit Flint on the head with her tambourine. It wasn't a serious hit, just a simple tap on the head.

"Hey, the goat is not food," the woman said, a hint of annoyance present in her voice.

The clang and jingle of the tambourine echoed, as it was bonked on Flint's head. His head slightly lowered from the impact, not in the least painful.

However he didn't take the woman's hint, and chased after the goat. It let out a disgruntled and worried goat cry, before galloping through the dinner room, with Flint following him. "Hey wait up goat! I just want to be friends!"

However his words contradicted his actions, as he chased after him with a fork in hand. Not stopping or looking back, the goat cried worryingly, with wide eyes, as it's tiny legs moved it as fast as they could.

"Hey!" the woman shouted as Flint appeared to ignore her and continued to chase the goat.

At first, no one understood what the commotion was all about. In fact, most people didn't even know it was occurring. However, as Flint chased the goat, the goat ran under the table.

"What the hell?" Blood said as he felt something smack against his legs. Other people were starting to get up as well.

With Hawkins sitting on the table drunkenly, he acted as the perfect barrier, trapping the goat between his legs. Nervously the goat shook, before Flint was upon the table already.

"That's it Hawkins! Corner him!" Flint growled, with his fork in hand. Immediately he dropped to his knees, sliding the rest of the way, and underneath the table as well. With his arms wide open, he latched onto the goat, he cried frantically again, before jumping up and down.

Tight on his grip, Flint was relentless and not letting go. In doing so, the two of them bumped into the table, knocking over, Hawkins rum bottles, plate, and some other things. "Hold still!" Flint said annoyingly, as the two of them began to hop around. "You're just so fluffy!" Flint added, as he rubbed his face on the goat's fur.