Excuse The Odd Bending Because I Had To Panorama It Because My Yard's Too Narrow To Step Back Any Farther.

Day 28 : New places

Alt Title: Reunion

Arriving to Elbaph at last.

Sorry i'm a little late XD

Original Prompt list by gratefulcheeses

Fri Oct 27

31. Just our hands clasped so tight (M) (1/1) by @mekachu04

Just the love in this fic. So much love. It’s beautiful and sweet and sexy and I will not stop shouting about it.  Plus such sensual art by @wargoddess9​

22. Aftermath

Kidd - 5 | Killer - 9

Tags specifically for this chapter:

Children in danger

Killer gets named

Killer's been an orphan for a long time

Kidd becomes an orphan

Baby Killer's first steps in Observation Haki

Child-Laborer!Killer

Killer running errands for the mob/bagman

lots of background death for this one, including some named oc's

Read at A03 linked above or here below cut

Drabbles from Pocket Jack's KiKi-tober Prompt list

He's too small for the good paying jobs, but he's a fast learner, and dexterous. And while mending nets and quality checking ropes doesn't make him a lot by way of coin, he's reliable and known and most of the dock masters will find something for him to do. He's become a familiar face both on the docks and in the taverns and sometimes they even left him sleep where he falls and pay him all the same.

He also stated to be trusted for other tasks - a note from a sailor to the City Boss, an envelope from the Boss back to the docks, sitting watch at a door until just the right man came around. He'd make more in those nights than he'd make in weeks of rope mending.

He'd make a name for himself that way too - when the wrong man came sniffing around. He hadn't meant to kill anyone, but the man not only refused to go away, he'd gotten physical with the little boy, not expecting much of a fight from a 6 year old. But a 6 year old with a nail studded board got the drop on him none the less, and the man woke up tangled in rope and sinking in the bay.

He wouldn't wake back up again, even if his body was pulled up, picked over for clues, dead eyes staring back at the little blond child that had gotten the better of him.

"No body messes with our little killer," the dock master had said, ruffling the boy's hair as the dead man's identity and loyalties were sniffed out.

So Killer got his name, fell in deeper with the black markets of the docks, and sometimes even got to sail on some of the ships on their shorter day voyages.

And when the inevitable happened - and once some small time Street Boss rose up to overthrow the City Boss, and throw down his sympathizers - 9 year old Killer was meant to be rounded up with them. But three years of running errands for a mob boss had taught Killer the signs to watch for - and all the best hidey-holes in the city.

He just really failed to understand the scope of such a take over. He heard the fighting outside, listened in horror as fighting turned to guns turned to explosions. In the end he'd climbed down in the water itself as the buildings and the ships started to burn, clinging to the dock pilings. It was foul, and so polluted he was afraid the sea might catch fire too. The heat would get so intense at a few times he had to dive completely under, holding his breath until he could no more, only to risk surfacing for air and diving back under again.

The fires burned for hours. The smoke would linger for days more; thick and cloying. It burned his eyes and throat and each breath hurt.

The docks were unrecognizable when he could tread no longer and lay gasping and exhausted on the stone work at the shore. The ships were gone. The wharf and piers charred down to the sea. The taverns and markets and shops no more than rubble as far as he could see. Corpses littered the streets, burned and mutilated, left to rot.

He wandered the streets - everything changed so much he didn't know where he was anymore, even if his feet did - eventually taking him back to the long time safety of Eustass' Tavern & Inn.

It too had been caught up in the fires, the Inn part completely gone, and only a scattering of the Tavern's shell still there.

"Mòr Mhàthair?" He was sure he sensed something in the smoking remains. He glanced down the street - still empty and still. "Mr. Eustass? Are you still here?"

He climbed over the smoldering wood beams that might have been part of the roof; there was definitely someone here, he could tell, but he wasn't sure who or exactly where. Worried the tavern matriarch might be trapped somewhere, Killer made his way back to where he believed the kitchens had once stood.

Sure enough, she'd been trapped. Unfortunately, Killer was far too late to do anything about it. He didn't know how to feel as he stood over her - one of so many burned mangled bodies he'd found since he thought it finally safe enough to climb out of the bay's water.

She might have been on of the few he would cry about if he had any strength left for it.

But there was still someone here...

Killer respectfully crawled past her, moving some of the rubble that had fallen against the bricks of the fireplace. Hiding in the soot bricks, covering in grime himself, was sunshine boy. He didn't look too bright now, just terrified, the only clean part of him was where his tears had been streaming down his face.

"Hey Sunshine." Killer said soothingly, pulling more rubble away so he could get closer, "You okay? Are you hurt?"

He shook his head no, but didn't move. Killer tired to move more of the debris but lacked the upper body strength, "Kid.. kiddo, you gotta come to me, okay? Can you move?"

The boy nodded, crawling forward until Killer could awkwardly pick him up. Killer started picking his way back out of the former building, whispering, "close you eyes" as they passed auntie, "keep them closed" he murmurer, when he spied Eustass' body on his way out. "It's okay... I've gotcha..."

Dark brown is getting its first spine glued. The next up, bottom in the white boards, has had its spine molded and is being pressed into shape. Going up after that you can see the next sets mostly prepped, just looking for the right end pages =^.^= #bookmaking #bookbinding (at WIP) https://www.instagram.com/p/CF53KbFl-Rt/?igshid=1dphp3u20x9ls

So life is a bit up and down right now, so I'm probably going to be taking a bit of a hiatus again at least as far as polishing up or finishing anything

Im going to still try and keep the sketches going on @mekachuo4 and sharing and rebloging other one piece art and general silliness over on @soyala04

Take care y'all and ill be back soon, dont worry =^.^=

14. Punk

Kidd - 18 | Killer - 22

Tags specifically for this chapter:

Killer's struggling with identity issues

and how he fits into the crew

Killer might be slightly agoraphobic|claustrophilic

Read at A03 linked above or here below cut

Drabbles from Pocket Jack's KiKi-tober Prompt list

He's not as surprised as he outta be to find Killer dozing in the workshop again. What was part of the captain's quarters had been split down the middle with all the best shiny crap Kidd could fill it with.

The room was now the closest to the scrapheap one could get - sans the smell. Kidd wasn't particularly trying to replicate anything but Killer certainly seemed to gravitate to something in the area.

Or maybe it was just the smallest room right now. Killer had always been uneasy in open spaces. As kids, they'd learn to burrow into many a small cramped places at night for safety and Killer's never really lost that habit.

Today he was tucked in under the desk. Kidd smirked as he moved in another box of odds and ends he'd gathered up. Killer had a perfectly good mattress in his brand new room and yet continued to wedge himself under Kidd's desk to sleep.

Dork Kidd thought fondly. He did try to work quietly though.

After a few minutes, a thought struck him, and he paused to peer down at his new colleague and oldest friend inquisitively. He mulled over the curiosity forming in him mind, tumbled it around.

"Hey Kil?" he prompted, kneeling down by the man. Killer did not move. He was curled in on himself, bangs down around his eyes, chin and nose tucked down into his collar. Kidd touched the rough shirt fabric thoughtfully, before brushing Killer's bangs away.

Killer made a soft little, "hmmm?" but did not wake.

***

There was certainly a ... theme... starting to develop with Kidd's new crew. A lot of fishnet as a fashion statement. A lot more leather then he'd been expecting. He'd thought he might have gone over board with some of the ostentatious prints he'd hoarded in the corner of his wardrobe, but nothing compared to the belts and chains and straps that was clearly his crew's new aesthetic.

But they looked so happy. Some of the get ups were impractical as hell, but that just meant Kidd had to be stronger and better to make sure that he'd be the one taking on any challengers and letting them keep their towering heels and strands of pearls.

Before they knew it the ship was ready to sail. Kidd standing on the deck of the newly christened Victoria Punk.

There was just one thing left...

Before the rest of the crew assembled, Kidd took his box and headed to the quarters of his three commanders. Wire & Heat he had already passed, leaving just one man behind. Good - Kidd wasn't sure how his gift would be received and wasn't sure Killer would want an audience. Once entering, Kidd knocked on the wall once inside, eyeing Killer in amusement.

"Don't laugh at me." The man warned, as serious as a heart attack. Killer had lost his sense of humor after Victoria Prime handed his ass to him a handful of years back.

Kidd held up the box as a peace offering. "I'm sorry." And he was. He could only guess how uncomfortable Killer was in that get up. "You look pitiful."

Killer scowled but Kidd just shook the box for emphasis. "The three of us had a chat. Sorry you weren't invited."

The scowled deepened. One of Killer's problems was he was just too damn emotive. No matter how he tried to hid it, just a glance at his face told you everything you needed to know about his mood. The mop of hair he called bangs could only hide so much, and Kidd was waiting for the day he came out to find Killer replaced by Cousin It.

Killer took the box, glaring at him before opening the lid to.... "Kidd?"

"We wanted everyone to be themselves, Killer. Remember? No more acting or dressing how other people expect us too. And that includes you."

Inside was a soft cashmere sweater, pale blue and cream. Probably the most money any of them had ever spend on a single item, much less for a piece of clothing.

Killer held the sweater, stunned, fingering the soft weave. "Kidd... I don't..."

"If you don't like it - then we'll give it to someone else. But... Kil, don't pretend to be into what every one else in. You don't have to do that anymore. I want you to just be you. Killer. Not someone parading around in today's latest BDSM catalog - which, apparently, is our new signature style - because he thinks he has to to be accepted."

Killer chuckled before pretending to cough to cover it up. Kidd tried not to let his disappointment at that colour his expression. But Killer did slid the garment on, and Kidd smiled when Killer's face lit up at the soft feel, beaming ear to ear in that silly crooked smile of his.

Day 29: 40 years

finally getting back to working on Kidd Pirates Month (january)

Original Prompt list by gratefulcheeses

ya'll are making me cry over here

for @mekachu04

Your Kid Pirates art is incredible. It’s a joy to discover your adorable drawings every day, they are always so beautiful and so touching. I’m always moved when I see them. You’re very talented!

21. Battle

Kidd - 15 (not really in this one) | Killer - 19

Tags specifically for this chapter:

Killer's side of the Break-up

How Killer got to be Boss

I kill some OC's again

Kidd is talked about a little but is not present for this one

Killer isn't really a main player either until the end

another blink-and-you-miss-it future!crew cameo

Read at A03 linked above or here below cut

Drabbles from Pocket Jack's KiKi-tober Prompt list

Boss Athair may not have time to form an opinion of the Heaps recruit that called himself Killer, but his right hand man certainly does. A man of few words, Ceannard is old enough to be retiring form this whole business, but his loyalty to his Boss means he won't do so without someone trust worthy to take his place.

He's got many a men who make good soldiers, very few that will make good leaders. And even fewer capable of advising a leader.

Solider Brathadair is none of these things, but he'd been at Athair's side longer than anyone, and Athair treats him like a son. Solider Killer is all of these things, but is nothing more then 'Boy' to the Boss. It's maddening to Ceannard  - seniority overshadowing all else. Athair claims to trust Ceannard in all things, but here is the impasse they have stalemated on.

Athair wants Ceannard to train up Brathadair to replace him. Ceannard has been working with Solider Boy for almost three years now and last fall even got him to swear fidelity to Athair and become a made-man. Ceannard knows who the better choice would be; Athair thinks Boy's ties to the new Heaps Boss is a liability, Ceannard sees it as proof that Killer has a good head on his shoulders, and could be a very good tool to have with negotiating, he just needs some refining.

The Heap's Boss is wild and impulsive, and the crew he's gathering have no restraint or etiquette. But he could be a strong ally, and Athair needs one after things fell apart with the young upstarts that have taken charge of the west and south parts of the city. Athair is the old man on the block, and the only one still pretending to respect him in the Big Boss in the City, and Ceannard knows it's only a matter of time before that becomes it's own fiasco.

<><><>

He just wasn't expecting it to happen so soon, a hail of bullets ripping though the hall. Not many are afforded the luxury of fire arms  - and Ceannard would very much like to know what finally caused their last ally to turn on them, and how they got this far with no alarm being raised.

"Soliders!" he's ordering them into position; his men armed with sword and daggers, against unknown numbers with guns and fire - if he had to guess based on the smoke starting to come in though the door. He and Brathadir will fall back to cover the Boss; The rest will likely die here, but hopefully give them time to move.

His next order never leaves his lungs, Ceannard gasping as the air is driven from his body by the blade driven through his back. Athair looks back at him stunned, horrified at the blood now falling to Ceannard's feet. Behind them the soldiers have engaged with the intruders, back to them, unable to see him falter. Athair falls forward on his own accord to catch his man before Ceannard hit the floor, the Boy was kneeling next to Athair and Ceannard, post forgotten as he tried to help Athair stem the bleeding.

It was a hollow endeavour. Ceannard knew it. Athair knew it. Solider Boy likely did too, but it didn't stop him from trying to keep his mentor from bleeding out.

"Brathadair!" Boss Athair summoned, looking for his senior soldier for backup in the unfolding chaos.

"Boss..." Solider Boy whispered, drawing his attention back. Athair watched his oldest friend slip away in his arms, numb. But that's not what the young man was drawing his attention to.

No, he was looking at the blade still sticking form Ceannard's back, a familiar hilt in the hazy light. Athair knows this blade to well - a gift from his own hand to Brathadair. His face is unguarded for a precious moment, disbelieving the man he called son would take the life of his dearest friend. He grabs a fistful of the mask Boy wears over his face - he'd mocked him for that Athair recalls, but it's working well for him in the thickening smoke - and pulls him close enough to glare into those ice blue eyes - "Solider - You find the man coward enough to stab my partner in the back, and you end him. You massacre everyone of those men if you have to, but the man who did this dies today."

"Yes Sir."

<><><>

When the dust does clear, there are clear losers. Ceannard is dead. Most of his men are dead. Brathadair is dead, along with the turncoats who allied with him.

Somewhere in the chaos, Athair took a bullet to the face. Killer's not sure why, the man never really liked him after all, but he still moves the corpse over to Ceannard.

Only one other Solider made it as far as Killer can tell, and even though he's a head taller than Killer, he still some how manages to look up at Killer for directions. He's as pale as Kidd, with a lost look to him, his dark blue frazzled hair sticking out erratically to complete the distressed nervous energy coming off him.

He stands there, looking over Killer, and then their fallen Boss, and their commander. "Now what do we do, Boss?"