Eustass Kidd for Pirate King

Of Attribute Day- Homocore (Zine)

When he was eleven, Kidd was in love with a girl named Victoria. And maybe he still is - at least the idea of who she was. She was cool and contrarian and pretty and kick ass and he loved her.

But he was a fool child and she was too and she beat him up - and then she kicked Killer's ass too- and Kidd couldn't help but love her all the more for it. But he didn't understand regret yet. Didn't understand owning up to his short comings and he never told her he was sorry.

His next crush was right around puberty and every possible way to do that wrong he took. When he was fourteen, he didn't admit his feelings as so much as blame Killer for the fact he had in in the first place and they fought and Killer left too.

Other crushes came and went but he was still a fool and he ran them all off in the end.

So he stopped trying for love and romance. Stop letting himself reach out for connections with others. He had flings. He had one night stands. He had dirty alley sex.

And completely by accident, he grew himself a gang in the interim. And he might be Boss, but he also found himself the little brother when it was just them; They took him to clubs and raves and concerts, sneaking him into places he was still too young to get into on his own. Dressed him to the nines in leather and fishnet and studs, and Gig taught him how to style his hair to defy gravity and Emma taught him to paint his lips and have it last all day and how to do the perfect wingtips in eyeliner.

Then the fragility of life was shoved in his face and what was left of that child he'd been was killed and cast away right alongside Victoria.

His gang joined with Wire's gang and Heat's gang. Joined with Killer's gang. The man that sat atop the throne of the criminal empire of Kutzk took one look at his spoilers and turned his back on the land and took up a life on the sea.

Life was always about fighting but, now on the sea it was for the thrill of it in equal parts. The sea called them ever onward and Kidd found a joy in life he didn't know he was missing.

They had stopped on an island that seemed to be in one never ending party and they left to explore, dressed in their most ostentatious getups to join the festivities.

Kidd was well into his cups at one joint, jovial enough to go get the next round for him and a few of the others that had tagged along with his own plundered gains. The music pounded, heavy bass a drum, low lights. The bartender exchanged full pitchers for coin and Kidd was tuning to leave when a lock of hair fell against his arm.

Soft, blond, with the hint of a curl. An uneven cut but the layers complemented the build of the man next to him. A deep red button up with fringe at the fore arms. Black belt, leather chaps over tight blue jeans. Bangs in disarray over blue eyes under a black mask. The cloth repeated the fringe motif.

On the islands the crew dressed up for, Killer tended to stay on watch at the ship. Killer's casual clothes were a sharp contrast the crew and he didn't like sticking out once they hit the night life scene. Kidd had thought he'd done the same tonight.

"Gonna take these back to the table... But.. If I came back in just a moment... would you still be here?"

Killer pretended to think it over. "Be here until my drink is done." He gave a tip of his beer at Kidd.

Not a soul at the table nor Kidd himself has any idea what he said when he dropped the beer off at the table, but he didn't stick around to for clarification. He was back to the bar in a flash, trying to pretend it was all still casual. Before the last Raid on Kutzk, it had been

years since it had been just them two of them. Since setting sail, the ship was just too small and crew too big for them to have a moment to talk. That's all he wanted to do. Talk.

If the two of them slipped out after Killer finished his drink and weren't seen again until returning to the ship together the next morning? Well, that was no one's business.

Its the 3rd Annual KiKitober!

Killer awkwardly flattened his hair as best as he could one handed, taking a steeling breath, and preparing himself for another rejection. He can't read, he can't lift anything with his arm still all messed up. He has no permanent address.

No one wants to hire someone like him. Not for anything above board. And with him hurt like this - a lot of below board is off the table too.

To add to his plate, Kidd's started eating more- he's grown at least an inch while Killer's been laid up. Killer's also terrified Heat is gonna come calling once he's recovered from Kidd's retaliation and the sad fact is, Killer needs to get Kidd out of the Heaps before Heat corners them.

Squatting in the city was its own dangers. Killer needs to get them of the streets, into a lease. Somewhere they had a legal right to be so the gangs don't get cross with them. For once he really isn't trying to start trouble.

But he's too young or too stupid or too crippled right now to be hire-able. A lady at the Laundromat had given him a sad smile, and suggested the pasta shop Killer currently was fidgeting in front of.

Was it even open? The place was empty...

But the door gave way he pushed - a little bell triggered as it was jostled about above. There was a kid maybe a year or so older than him at the host stand. He looked just as surprised as Killer felt when the door opened. "Can I...  help you?"

"I was told to come talk to the owner about a job." Killer tried, going for partial truth that sounded more confident than he felt. The boy disappeared into the back. He came back. "Which job?"

Here Killer faltered. He had no idea. It's not like he had the money to ever eat at a restaurant.. "Any they got." 

The boy went back, then returned, "Who sent you for a job?"

Shit. Killer didn't know her name. "One of the wash ladies."

Back to the mystery man to confer.

"We don't have any jobs with no wash ladies."

Killer had a suspicion they were talking at cross purposes. "No, I don't work with her. I'm trying to get a job."

There was an awkward moment. Killer knew if the kid went to the back again Killer was calling it and leaving.

Sure enough, the boy headed back.

Killer got as far as the door chiming when a man's voice called out. "It's about lunch time. Stay and we'll talk."

Killer came back to the current hovel him and Kidd were living in. Kidd was there stripping some wiring he'd collected. He frowned when Killer crawled in to the space next to him; he very vocally disagreed with Killer's scheme of finding employment. Killer presented his peace offering of butter noodles & cheese. Still warm.

As they ate, Killer cautiously explained his day. Of his new job. 3 days a week, he'd be the front host of a little pasta place. Take orders, fill drinks, bring the food out, take payments. At the end of the night, he'd clean the dining area and lock the front shudders.

Some of it might be awkward while his arm healed but it was all things he could do.

He'd get paid enough to rent a little one bedroom in the cluster of apartments above the shop.

That got Kidd's attention. "You... You want to move away?"

"Both of us! I get a discount on food so we can eat there too, anytime. Think of it! Hot water, central heating; A roof that wont leak come the rainy season. Locking doors! Kidd, Big heavy doors that lock!"

"We got a big metal door already, I could build you a lock... " Kidd just want sure why Killer was all excited about a job of all things. He knew his friend had been squirelly about his arm being all messed up, but Kidd was more than capable of providing for them. Killed looked exasperated that Kidd wasn't getting it. Kidd hated that look, made all the worse by how clear it was on Killer's face with a chunk of hair missing from his left side where it had burned off. "How good is you discount on food?"

Four fights of stairs over the little diner, and Kidd looked over Killer's new appointment. There was a table and two mismatching chairs next to some kind of vent that Kidd assumed was the heating killer had mentioned.

A sad looking couch was on the back wall to provide more seating at the table.

Above it was,a dirty window looking at the brickwork of the neighboring building a few feet away. But it was nice to get natural light, Kidd supposed.

A small washroom and toilet next to a pantry and tiny stove. Cupboards for dishes and plates they don't own. Drawers for non existent cutlery. A small fridge.

Kidd... could maybe see the appeal. Many a meal they had to choke down because it had gone off but not enough to toss.

"Wanna see your room?"

"My what?" Killer opened the last remaining door and present it with the most sickeningly hopeful look Kidd had seen.

A clean thick mattress with a pillow and blankets inside. A work desk under the apartment's only other window and stool tucked in under it.

"I figure you can use the room like a little office." Killer explained. "A place to keep your good scrap until you find a project for it, or decide to sell it. A place to build your stuff and not worry some other Scrap Rat is gonna pawn it."

It was pretty far from the Heaps. A long way to be lugging scrap around. Although Kidd supposed he at least could cheat a little bit with his magnetism. "You're really set on this?"

Kidd guessed it wasn't the worst.

tiny little context: i have the headcanon that Heat's Glasgow Smile and Killer's left arm injury are things they two inflicted on each other long before they had even though to be gang bosses on Kutzk. Kidd got involved and ended the feud - nearly killing heat and causing him (among other things) the throat damage that would lead to him one day upgrading to breathing fire.

This is after Killer is starting to heal; He's about 15 or 16, with Kidd about 12 or so. It's feeding into some other ideas I have that will end in how the two of them ended up being rival gang bosses, but this will end well before that.

The Grand Line!

Kidd had to see, standing front at the bow, as they crested Reverse Mountain. Killer swam just off to the side, leaping out from time to try just as in awe of the strange, gravity defying current.

It was a race to see which one of them crossed the Red line.

first Kidd was pretty sure it was him, but adamantly got distracted by the sudden leveling as they reached the small pool at the peak where the other three seas joined the South for the first time.

All four oceans coming together, and feeding the Grand Line.

Killer cried in glee as he hit the new current, speeding along before the Victoria Punk to their New Home. He swam ahead and showed them the deepest path down; it was up to the crew to follow in the Punk. Kidd's Pirates had spent two years maraudering the South Blue and learning to be competent sailors. Two years that seemed well spent and they kept to the water- not dashed on the rocks like all to many vessels before them.

Only it was not just the mountain that guarded the Pirates Graveyard. A large seamonster cried and rammed the impossible river, like it was carving its own way against the current.

Killer saw it too, gone like a flash as he torpedoed himself forward to clear the way.

The crew cheered him on - their first great battle! What better way to start the voyage then an epic battle between their killer & a great Sea Beast!

Only it seemed over rather quickly - the beast sinking down until only the very top of it great head remained above the waves.

The sea had foam and flotsam but no blood. Also, no Killer to claim victory.

A strange man with a massive mounted harpoon was at the shore, watching them. watching the water.

Shit... was he looking for Killer? Those bolts looked like they would tear clean through their sea- bound nakama.

The only thing keeping Kidd calm was no blood.

"Old man. Appreciate you clearing the way. You hunting beasts?

"Not quite. Trying to keep the fool thing from hurting itself. You arriving when you did was pure luck on your part."

"Rude..." Kidd scoffed under his breath.

"Boss" Wire said low at his side, joining him on the bow, "Killer's staying low in the drag net; Says he's fine. Not to worry."

Opposite Punk's anchor was the drag net- repurposed as an oversize hammock low in the water for Killer to rest in so he didn't dry out, or get drug through any waste dumped off the back of the Punk during the voyage.

Similar netting did in fact run up the back of the Punk as well, for Killer to come up to the galley or stern castle when he wanted to be social with them. Or for when him and Kidd took naps together during cool weather in Kidd's cabin.

Worried the strange man would see Killer as just another dumb beast to hunt, they did not linger. Kidd gave the lighthouse keeper a friendly middle finger wave and they steered clear of the possibly-not-dead whale in the water.

Killer chattered softly from the water as they sailed past.

Once Kidd was sure the man was far enough behind him to not be able to see his friend, he peaked down to the net.

"I'm okay.'' Killer's voice called back, carefully monotone and even. He did his best not to accidently Sing around his humans as much as he could.

Still, Kidd could hear he was shaken. It was certainly not what they expected the start of this voyage. "You wanna come up?" not for the first time he wished he could go down to Killer's level to comfort him.

The ropes creaked, and soon, Killer was heaving over the rail, his long body and fins spilled over onto the deck. Kidd leaned into him once he was settled, Killer still slumped down so they were shoulder to shoulder for once.

Next to Kidd-and his average human proportions - Killer was pretty big. He was going to be too long to share Kidd's hammock in the next few years. But compared to SeaKings and that beast at Reverse Mountain - he was just another small fry. They had no idea if he was fully grown or if he was just going to keep getting bigger. Kidd shifted his weight, bumping into Killer. Just a touch to reassure Killer he was there.

"I..." Killer seemed to think over his words. "The whale song. I did not know his words, but the song. It was so sad."

Normally stoic, Killer's voice pitched at the end. "I know his song, forever singing for family that never comes back."

Kidd rested on the rail, glancing back just once to the way they came. "You know I'll always come back to you, right? Even if you never sing- I'll come back."

wacom wont connect, so just a sketch today

The beat coming off the drummer kept time with his heart, pounding hard in his chest. The screaming guitar commanding his body to move in time with each strum, dancing in the sea of bodies with the music.

The flashing lights make the crowd move together; No one is anybody unless they are on the stage. Just a tide of those lost in the beat.

No marines. No criminals. No civilians.

And certainly no pirates. No one could hear him over the singer, No one could see him in the masses. His hair had been braided back by Quincy so it didn't get tangled on anyone once the head banging got started, and no one gave him a second glance.

No mask here. Not a metal one anyway; A simple cloth of pale blue, a common precaution in new cities and big crowds. He let the music wash over him.

Above at the table, eagle eyed crew watched his back. Killer wasn't sure he'd of relaxed if they hadn't. But for a moment he'd let himself forget about them.

Forget about the sea. The Grand line.

Like he was just some guy. A guy at a concert with just the music in his soul

A body at his side, as familiar as his own heartbeat, moving to the music.

Kidd danced harder. More power. Less grace. But in perfect rhythm to his own.

Tens of bodies pressed in tight. But to Killer it was all secondary, Just him. The band.

And Kidd.

One day they will be two of the Worse Generation. One day they will be spoken with in fear and awe across the seas.

Today it was just Kidd & Killer. Dancers indistinguishable in the dark.

Its the 3rd Annual KiKitober!