Eustass Kidd for Pirate King

Both Kidd and Cora look at Law -calculating- when the both of them return. Law felt he should have been at least a little offended no one gave Killer a second glance, but Killer also came bearing gifts of candy and smokes among other bits for lunch so maybe Law should bring a bribe next time as well.

Corazon looked almost guilty with how fast he snatched up the box of smokes, which the boys were all generous enough to not comment on. Killer tossed Kidd the clothes they'd brought back before setting out the meal he'd snagged for the four of them; Kidd barely looked at them before he was dutifully striping off his clothes right there in the open.  The doctor in Law noted the signs of malnutrition, the tell-tale bumps of improperly healed bones, each vertebra of his spine clearly defined as he was bent over to pull his new pants on. Law forced himself to look away as to try and turn off the mental diagnostics that couldn't help but start to try and list off in his head.

After, the two boys- self described 'Scrap Rats' - spent the lazy afternoon digging through the new trash unearthed by yesterday's storm, separating trash from treasure; although Law could not see much of a difference.

Kidd seemed to have utilized his devil fruit young, finding copper and expensive soft metals inside the concrete and steel. "Voids" he'd said. Non-magnetic pockets in a sea of manipulable metals.

Killer, on the other hand, had an eye for the priceless. Not scrap to melt down, but coins or creations that had value as they currently existed. If you could find a buyer at least. His was the harder job- Who to trust enough to let them know he had such treasures to start with? What would he sell them for? He was getting ripped off regardless, but if he asked for what they were really worth - he'd be more likely gutted and robbed, than walk away with coin. Law wondered just how many caches like the one they'd stopped at today Killer had scattered over the wasteland.

In the morning, Kidd would haul his collection to a shady old man just outside the city wall - a man who would pay coin for weight. Killer would hoard the pricier pieces until he had a buyer. If he played it right, he and Kidd got enough to rent a room with plumbing, heating, and a sturdy door for a few weeks.

All this explained off hand, with a strange comradery that Law was highly suspicions of; His fellow supernova was never so open as far as he could recall, but then finances were laid out like there was no stakes to it. Neither boy looked like they plan on asking Law or Corazon to contribute either.

Part of Law's pride hurt at that, but at 13 he was hardly bigger than 10 year old Kidd; and this far along in amber sickness he must look like death to the other boys. It was a pity that rankled him, but also one oddly sincere, considering the source. A shift in his understanding of the two; maybe under all that bluster and antagonistic ego, there had once been something kind.

Law hated to entertain it. He liked the rivalry he and Kidd had and certainly didn't want to risk it and become some underling to the younger boy. Law was his own Captain, thank you very much.

Sometime as the afternoon sun started it's path down, Killer wandered off again, bag of odds and ends from Kidd slung over one shoulder.

Kidd didn't seem too bothered the older boy was leaving, and instead had commandeered Corazon into assisting him in improving the makeshift shelter from last night, in to a shelter big enough for the tall man to move more comfortably in. The two had seemed to find a strange peace with the other that if Law was still a child, might have been jealous of. A Kidd that seemed to still be seeking the approval of those around him; and a Corazon soft enough to squat down and watch each thing as Kidd explained it too him like it held the secrets to the universe.

Was the this Corazon Law had been too angry as a child to see the first time around, right up until it was too late? The man that cut his own safety net and betrayed both his brother, and the marines that had become his family, because his own growing desperation to not let Law die? The man who burned hospitals down because they were too ignorant or too callous to try and save the life of a child.  A man who once threw Law out a window to try and save his life.

A man who claimed to hate children; but played tea parties with Baby 5 and pretended to fall for even the most obvious of Buffalo's pranks. Everything he did for Law. Letting Kidd dictate where things go, pretending to misunderstand, causing Kidd to laugh and then correct him like Corazon was a silly fool.

Law had to admit he was begrudgingly impressed at the soundness of the whole shelter. For a preteen child- Kidd had a good grasp on structural integrity. Law occasionally helped, but otherwise sat outside in the late sun and let the early evening breeze from the sea wash over him and supervised. The weather was warm compared to last night, and not a cloud in sight. Granted- from what he pieced together- last night had been the same up until the moment it wasn't.

Finally Law couldn't wait any longer, anxious energy making it hard to stay settled. He remembered- even a decade later- how terrible it had been to cut the lead from himself. But he understood his devil fruit so much better now: Every time he'd learned a new technique, he'd reflected on that first surgery and how it could have gone better.

He never entertained the thought he might do it again; it had been just a thought exercise. He was ... almost excited to get to actually try it out.

Should that worry him? His own eagerness to redo a self-surgery that haunted him as a teen?

Ideally, he wanted to wait for Killer to get back and use him as a distraction for Corazon, but it was getting too hard to stay still and wait.

Kidd was explaining something about how he'd fitted the metal plating together for the new ceiling to Corazon, who was rubbing a new bruise from where he'd smacked himself in the face helping the little boy.

Now or never...

"I'm gonna step out for a bit. I'll be back."

They both turned - eerily similar expressions as they seemed to be judging if they were accepting his statement at face value.

Law didn't stay for questions.

His skin buzzed -was it Kidd prodding, or his own nervous energy? - and he tried to keep a causal gait as he walked away.

Sterile. Both the room and the blades. A straight razor instead of a scalpel, but Law was confident in his skills that it didn't bother him.

It had been agony the first time. Suicidal perhaps. But he had been so heartbroken back then, what was the pain of cutting open his own flesh in comparison?

Now he could use his fruit to make it painless, bloodless. Instead of cutting chunks of his body out to burn, he was able to isolate only the lead. Before, he had cut any potentially contaminated muscle and flesh away. Now he knew what was a lost cause and what would heal given time once the disease was removed.

The metal formed a pile on the table before him, potentiality contagious in this form, so he would need to find a way to destroy it that wouldn't make Kutzk the South Blue Flevance.

He hadn't realized how much it was weighing him down until he was done. When he released his devil fruit and stood staring at his fatal infection glistening pure white in front of him.

With his mastery of his fruit, there was no slashes to stitch closed, no gaping avulsions to wrap. Smooth skin, no longer hard or lumpy, occasionally broken up with a white patch that no longer threatened to consume him. Instead of lacerations that looked like self harm scars he'd go to hide with black ink- he now wore a passive patchwork of discolored but healthy flesh.

For the second time in his life, he was cured of the Amber lead disease. But for the first time, he felt free of it.

*waves into the void* hi~
so.. its been a few years, hasn't it.
While it feels like I've started to understand Kidd and Killer to write them, Law - and by extension Corazon - just continued to be out of grasp. When I started this story Law's novel was not available in English, but I was able to hunt down a French translation. However, my French is rusty - i haven't used it since 2004, so it was a slow read. And it helped, but i was still stuck and and this just continues to linger on the backburner. I've got an outline built, its just been a struggle to get it filled in.
thank you for everyone patience with this one, and hopeful this chapter is worth the wait. <3

He has a purpose now- at least for the time being. He got him and 'Auntie' a job for the moment. Now he looks at housing.

The dockworkers turn out to be the most helpful. The Boss' men might know the city better, but the dockmen are less sketchy. Instead of being amused and patronizing by being questioned by an eight year old; the working men hear him out; his age softens them but they don't treat him as lesser for it.

They're dirty and crass and have little manners, but they are sincere. They mean what they say, they don't hide behind a mask of false smiles or pretty empty words.

The Bossmen would have bullied the few places with open rooms to rent to him. The dock-men explain in simple terms, their references are sound, and Kidd is offered steep discounts. Hearing that his Auntie is Brichtrede Eustace, and he'd helping her recover opens more doors; the loss of the Eustace Tavern and the legacy that ended when it burned was felt by the working class community. Its a side of Kutzk he'd not really appreciated as a snot nose shit-starter the first time around.

Ultimately, he finds a single room on a second floor, the steps sturdy with firm handrails. The couple who own the home will wash Brichtrede's laundry for her, but Kidd will be expected to bring it down on wash day and take it back up to the room later. The lady will not be turning the bed, or cleaning the room once they moved in, so it will fall to them to manage.

Brichtrede and Kidd will also have to provide their own dishware, but the owners have a privy and washtub that are available to them and will provide simple dinners. The other meals will cost extra. But if Brichtrede can provide bread from work- they could work something out.

Kidd will need to hunt down a bed roll for the floor for himself, but the room is large enough for one to fit if they move the small provided table to the side at night.

It's thirty minutes to walk to the Bakery at Brichtrede's current pace. Perfectly doable, and as she gets stronger, the walk will get easier. The level streets between the two are well maintained with few shady alleyways she'd need to pass; he'd walk with her of course, to discourage any iniquitous thugs like himself to harass her.

She makes an appearance at one of the Bossman's Rallies, carted around to be a spectacle as the Crime Lord calls for people to stand up to the invaders. To drive the marines from their shores. She says nothing; her eyes are closed in humiliation for the majority of it. Her participation isn't needed- they're only where to gawk at her after all.

After, the two of them are dropped off at their new home. The next day, Brichtrede will spend with the landlords, and then the day after she and Kidd will start work.

Kidd's never had a reoccurring job before. He's essentially been self employed his whole life - even as a Scrap Rat, he worked at his own terms. He's surprised to find he's nervous.

In the morning, he maps out every other possibly way to the bakery from their room, before learning the streets that branch off from theirs. Learning the services, the shops, the vendors. What streets are filled with the hungry, and which are filled with those of loose pockets. Learns what streets the city guards loiter on, and most importantly, the ones the Marines march on. He hates them both, but seeing Marines marching on his home boils his blood- sees then taking merchandise from vendors without fair compensation, and sees the men and woman of Kutzk bow their head at it.

He wants to rage.

And remembers all the bodies rotting away in the morgue of those who raged before him.

So he too keeps his head down.

Until he sees them. Carts of them.

Marines marching down the street to their ships at the dock. Carts of children rolling behind them.

Catches the fearful blue eyed gaze of one of them and then can only see red.

He looses track of the days.

Time has little meaning here, and too much of it is spent inside his own head.

Could ofs, would ofs, Should ofs tumbling over and over in a vain attempt to smooth away the sharp edges tearing at his heart when his thoughts drifted back to memories of his crew drowning around him.

And so, there was a peace in watching his 'Aunt' trying to take her first steps. His crew has dead and gone, decades away. Nothing he did could undo that.. Encouraging Brichtrede to stagger slowly down the support beam - dragging her legs more than anything else, but moving under her own power - was at least an action he could take to fix something -anything- in the here and now.

He also enjoyed glaring at the adults circling around her like sharks. He may be small, but he was more than able to ruin their days if they tried to take advantage.

And try they did.

The Boss' Goon was the worse. They wanted Brichtrede so they could hold her up as an invalid widow left ruined by the Unwanted Occupation of the World Government. They wanted her better; but not well. To limp along for pity, but never to heal.

Kidd hated them.

But they also were willing to pay Brichtrede for her appearances.

Less irksome, was that some of the dock men had raised a collection for her when the tavern burned - Originally for last rites. And burial.

But she lived, so now more was raised to get her a place to stay once she was released.

And money meant suddenly everyone wanted to help her during this trying time. Everyone wanted a few coin for their troubles.

And Kidd was there to glare-and occasionally bite- those who pushed too hard. Who overstepped.

Brichtrede's hands healed. Her arms got their strength back. She was steadily being able to stand on her own.
Kidd found himself at her side the first time she took a frustrated step of her own without the doctors around.

She was so sick of laying in bed. She was sick of being trapped. Of being helpless.

Kidd steadied her; helped her stay on her feet. Was it better or worse- to be reliant on a one armed child?

Regardless, by week's end, she was looking at the money raised by her misfortune. Maybe enough to rent a room for a season on two, but then what?

Would she heal enough to work? To make enough to not need the charities or be the Boss' dog-and-pony show? Who would hire her? Her face would scare away customers.

another one of those I'm just posting because otherwise im stuck

The adrenaline crash was inevitable; The red head glared at two of them, but the slump to his shoulders said everything. The boys wont ask for help, but it was clear they'd hit their wall. Zoro scooped the leader of the two, chuckling at the token protests as the child was lugged around as if he was just another bag of supplies. Sanji lifted his own groceries on one shoulder, the little blond tucked up on his other hip - more mindful of the injury on the small child's arm.

The peace lasted only as long as it took to board the Sunny. The group was swarmed immediately when Sanji and Zoro returned; a maelstrom of activity. Even if the boys had started to doze off on the walk over they were fully awake now. The tiny charge in Zoro's arms was ready to throw down immediately when he believed them to be attacked, a powerful push from the exhausted tiny little body to clear the way, but the toll was paid immediately. Even as he raised his hand for a more targeted attack, Red slumped against Zoro, eyes threatening to roll back, as Zoro dropped his supplies to gently pull the tiny arm back down. The boy's breathing was harsh, but attention quickly turned from him to the explosion of violence from the boy in Sanji's arms. He moved like he was possessed, working himself up into a panic, elbow jabbed quick and harsh into Sanji's neck and was kicking to free himself to get to his friend.

Sanji quickly handed his groceries off to the many sprouting arms of Robin that had bloomed to assist him as most of the rest of the crew took a step back to give them space as he tried to keep a gentle but firm hold on his charge even as he wheezed to catch his breath back. Only Luffy remained up in anyone's space, frozen in place by Zoro's elbow to his face from where he'd been trying to crowd the two. The captain watched as Sanji avoided the worst blows, softly talking down the fearful child. "Look - everyone's okay. Luffy was excited to say hi. No one's trying to hurt either of you..."

Luffy looked back between the duos from around Zoro's hand in his face - a guilty smile in that disarming grin of his, laughing kindly and sheepishly at the scared children. "Sorry, sorry!" he raised his hands in a mock surrender.

One of Robin's sprouted arms remained lingering,  a warm steady presence on the blond boy's back, rubbing it soothingly. Many people found her arms unnerving, but the boy either didn't realise it yet or was so overwhelmed with everything else it plain didn't register. But it did seem to help, and while he was still tense, he stopped fighting and just slumped in Saniji's hold, gaze locked on Red, who was coming back around a little and was slowly engaging in the mild argument starting between Zoro and Luffy, but whose side he was on was hard to tell.

Another hand bloomed to gesture Sanji's attention to see Chopper at the door of his infirmary, nodding he was ready - having smelt the blood before anyone had finished boarding the Sunny in the first place and made to ready the room. Sanji headed over, Zoro and Luffy not far behind.

The exhaustion was clear on both boy's faces as they where set down together on one of the beds, the rest of the crew loitering in the doorway, watching over Luffy's shoulder. Zoro playfully shoved their captain back out the doorway before Chopper had a chance to shoo them away, and Luffy beamed at them once last time as the door was closed behind Sanji to leave the doctor to his work, captains words clear even if muffled though the door - "Sanji! Meat for our friends!"

Any excuse to eat. "Maybe we should start with juice and crackers?" Sanji's offered answer came back, not sure when they boys had eaten last. They also looked pale - and with the blood loss - some orange juice would probably go over well.

Soon as the crew's voices disappeared, leaving just the stare down was happening in the infirmary.

Chopper's nose twitched at the smell of fresh blood but distrust spoke louder. Ideally, the tiny doctor would see to the patient actively bleeding first, but the murderous look Red gave him for even looking at his friend told him to tread carefully. "Do either of you know who I am?"

They might just be tiny look a likes - nothing more than a strange coincidence of the Grand Line - but the nose knows and even small, the scents of the other two supernova's remained unchanged. Unfortunately, it didn't mean they knew him - it didn't surprise Chopper that both boys shook their heads no.

"My name in TonyTony Chopper. I'm a reindeer who ate the human-human fruit. It's nice to meet you. What are your names?"

"I'm Eustass' kid" the boy declared, the possessive article catching Chopper's attention, but he didn't comment - only taking the boy's offered hand in a firm handshake. After, Kidd gestured to the increasingly uncertain boy sitting next to him, "This is Killer. He's my best friend."

Before Chopper could offer his hoof the Killer - mostly just relieved to confirm the boys identities were indeed what his nose had suggested - the blond boy had turned to look to Kidd questioningly, eyebrows knitted in confusion, his strange smile pinched and painful looking.

The hurt on Kidd's face was just as jarring, and Killer looked panicked, gesturing gently to his chest. As the outsider, the exactly meaning was lost on Chopper, but Kidd seemed to read it just fine. He didn't look happy, but at least not hurt anymore. "Yeah," was all he said, swallowing thickly. He gently punched his friends shoulder. "I'll tell you later."

Sanji would come by not long after with small snacks and juice cups for the boys. Chopper had checked Kidd over by that point - other than over exerting himself with his own devil fruit, he was doing well, but the snack would do well to perk him up.

Killer wasn't so straight forward - in whatever conflict the children had been in - something had cut his forearm up pretty bad. Worse yet was trying to stitch it closed though the thick scar tissues that ran the entire length of his arm. Chopper was confident the local anesthesia he'd administered kept the boy from feeling him work but he didn't like how hard it was to pass the needle though the rough scar tissue. Killer seemed nervous about the injury - giving it much the same side eye Kidd did with his residual limb. Battles they'd yet to live through but scars already engraved into their bodies.

Kidd sipped on one of the juices as Chopper worked - Killer himself still just as quiet as he'd been since the start - almost like he was afraid to make a sound - but seemed more than happy to let Kidd do the talking for both of them. In turn, Kidd seemed to know the other boy well enough to pick up on unspoken questions.

He didn't make a single sound as Chopper stitched, not a single reaction as the needle pricked his skin over and over. The blond didn't even seem like he was breathing, ramrod straight and still as death. Even after stitching up Zoro - the master of stoicism while hurt - the reaction made Chopper uneasy. To try and sooth the boy - and his own nerves - Chopper rambled as he sewed.

He wasn't even sure where in his story he was when Kidd pipped up - "Are you real Pirates?" Chopper was met a frown as the boy sat up straighter on the bench, thinking hard for a moment as he studied his friend, voicing for him the question forming, "Are you going to sell us?"

"Pirates, not traffickers," Chopper assured them, uneasy with how fast a child's mind would go to such a thing.

Killer... it was hard to to tell with the smile frozen on his face, but it didn't look like he completely bought it. Kidd however seemed alright with his answer, up on his feet and peering out the small window in the room, "Are we on the ocean?"

"Still docked at port, but ... I guess so. Technically."

Kidd looked back at Chopper, the gleam in his eyes almost too much to behold, "Whose your captain? Do they have a bounty? Where have you sailed?"

"His name is Monkey D. Luffy, you met him before on deck. With the straw-hat. And yes he has a bounty. About 3 million beri now. The crew started in the East Blue, and entered the Grand Line though Reserve - "

"Where are we now?" he asked. The excitement gone, and more dread starting to set in. He might be a child but he hadn't survived this long without being quick at putting the pieces together.

"Most of the way through the New World section of the Grand Line. We're probably closer to Reverse Mountain at this point than Mary Geoise."

"That's... really far from Kutzk..." Kidd murmured, and any colour left in Killer's face drained away.

Kidd looked at the stump of his left are with a growing look of dread.

"Is Kutzk your home island. In the south blue?"

Killer looked questioningly at Kidd, sitting up straighter on the bench and the two regarded each other quietly. Chopper gave them a moment before starting to wrap his finished work on Killer's arm.

Kidd nodded, "Have you been there?"

Chopper shook his head negative, trying not to feel bad when both boys shoulder's slumped, "I've never left the Grand Line."

"Eh, you're not missing much,' Kidd declared, tearing his gaze from the window even if he clearly wanted to go outside. He joined Killer on the bench, looking pale and worn out himself, looking over the clean white bandages, before pulling at what was left of the sleeve Chopper had cut off.

"It's kinda a bad ass look if you cut the other sleeve off for him too," He suggested to Chopper. Killer studied his own arms for a moment, before holding his right out for Chopper.

Chopper wasn't sure 'bad ass' was a look an eight year old should be aiming for, but if it made them happy, it wouldn't hurt anything.

The smile on Killer's face was notable brighter and Chopper couldn't help but smile back. He shimmied a little in place once he was done. He wasn't happy or anything. Don't be silly.