The Residence Of Arnon Tolk

Dr. Tolk took his time showering. If this was possibly the last time he was going to be in his hometown, then he wanted to be able to enjoy his freedom for whatever remaining time he had. Whether or not the men upstairs were pirates or Marines didn't matter anymore.

He was tired. Tired of the shitshow that his life was turning into. So, he decided to just take what was to come in stride.

The now carefree man cleaned himself up as best he could, making sure to scrub every inch of his body to rid himself of the stink of alcohol. After the shower, he took a blade and began to shave himself. The five o'clock shadow he never seemed to be able to keep away for more than a few days was doing him no favors.

His shoulder length silver hair, whether it was from old age or naturally that color he'd never tell, stayed mostly the same. He did run a comb through it to work out the knots, though. Even at his age where most men lose the hair on their head and grow it out on their backs or in their ears, he kept most of his hair where it always was.

A blessing most of his colleagues had always been jealous of. 'Jealousy has always been the precursor to hate. I should know, having experienced suffering at the hands of both.'

He splashed water on his face, vigorously wiping away both the shaving cream and loose hairs. 'No! No more mopey bullshit! It's time to spend my days not feeling sorry for myself.' Picking up the towel off the rack to his left, he dried his face and walked out of the bathroom.

He hadn't noticed it before, but the man from before had gone and tidied up his room. The windows were wiped down, the trash that was on the floor and furniture was nowhere to be seen, there was a full mug of steaming coffee on his nightstand, and even the very air smelled cleaner than it was before.

That last one was because the open windows, courtesy of a now much less disturbed Buggy, had let all the stale air out and let the fresh air in. A welcome change of pace to complement the doctor's decision to change his attitude.

Though one thing was still bothering him. Something that he hadn't really processed until just now. 'Did he seriously brush my teeth while I was asleep!?' He thought in disbelief. 'Just who the hell is this guy?'

It hadn't taken Buggy all that long to clean up the doctor's house once he decided that leaving Solomon outside was not in the Fishman's best interest. Despite being covered by the shade of the tree, Solomon was still much more susceptible to the heat given his aquatic nature.

But he also wouldn't have them recovering from the heat in some disgusting pigsty.

So, he and Dr. Trafalgar worked to clean what spaces and areas the four of them needed. Once that was done they spread themselves out in the living room. Though Rosie had woken up from her 'nap' at some point and just spent the better part of half an hour nervously glancing at the three pirates.

Mostly Buggy and Solomon given that intimidating presence both men had; and the fact that Buggy had "threatened" her life not too long ago.

At some point after they finished cleaning up, Dr. Trafalgar, Rosie, Solomon, and Lilith all went into another room. And while they didn't say it directly to him, he had an idea of what was going on. The look he and Solomon also shared before they left had given him reassurance that nothing bad was going to happen while they were gone, so that set his mind at ease.

It turned out that most of the smell came from garbage that had food rotting inside and the stale air that was begging to be let outside; though at the cost of some outside heat also getting in.

He didn't touch the bathrooms and he didn't mess with the kitchen; he hated doing dishes and there wasn't enough money in the world that would get him to clean anyone else's bathroom. The coffee he gave to Dr. Tolk was actually stolen from another house he passed on the way there.

After cleaning and then waking the man up, Buggy waited patiently for the Dr. Tolk to finish washing himself and to start packing what he needed for their journey. He appreciated that the man didn't seem too uncooperative about being dragged along with them.

He half expected him to try and start a fight with him. A pleasant surprise to not have an issue at this point. Time was quickly running out and he was not going to waste a second of it.

And if he did start complaining, the plan of treating Dr. Tolk with a modicum of respect would quickly go out the window. He already had so much to deal with that one more ounce of stress and he might quite literally explode; Rouge and the baby were only the tip of the iceberg.

Lilith and her nightmares, successfully recruiting Solomon, and hiding out from both the Marines and the World Government were also on the list of shit Buggy had on his plate. None of which could be ignored because the world didn't stop when one of his problems became more relevant than the others.

He laid down on the comfortable, and clean, sofa in the doctor's living room, also clean now that he was through with it, putting his feet up and watching as the wind gently moved the drapes towards and away from the open window.

It was about time he found something peaceful to focus on.

Added to this was the almost hypnotic sound of the pipes in the house delivering water to Dr. Tolk's shower.

Before he knew it, Buggy was fast asleep. Truth be told, he hadn't been sleeping well since he'd gotten that call from Shanks. He never slept well when he felt overwhelmed. And the previous night was certainly no exception what with Lilith's nightmare about Flevance.

But now things were settling down and he felt relaxed enough to catch some shuteye before they needed to leave. He finally got his hands on one of the doctors Rouge and the baby would need. And soon enough, they'd be in the Grand Line heading for the other one.

So far so good. If Shanks could manage to keep the Marines from discovering that Rouge was on the island, then it'd be a manageable situation. And Buggy could take it from there. He'd already created half a dozen possible ways to distract the marines and get them the hell off that island.

In the last few moments of coherent thought, though, he could have sworn he'd heard Devlin's voice. It sounded far away and panicked but he shrugged it off. Being as tired as he was could make you see things. It wasn't too far out there to think it could make you hear things as well.

Besides, Devlin was supposed to be watching their ship. An easy task the Roger Pirates had trusted him with dozens of times even before he got his devil fruit powers. For Devlin, it would be an easy task to keep people away.

Also, how could she have possibly been able to yell loud enough for him to hear her from all the way across the island? She wasn't that loud, and his hearing wasn't that amazing.

Solomon watched on as Dr. Trafalgar and Rosie gave Lilith a check-up. He figured he might as well take advantage of having an actual doctor and an accompanying nurse, turns out she wasn't just a receptionist, with them while he could.

Despite his distaste for Humans in general, having experienced the worst of them and what they had to offer firsthand, he actually hated the three he was with slightly less than he expected to. Particularly Lilith, as she had suffered the endless torments alongside him for the better part of a year.

He supposed this is what was bound to happen what with everything Buggy and the girls had done for him.

Dr. Trafalgar turning towards him brought him out of his thoughts. The man cleaned his glasses as he spoke, sounding much more confident now that he'd had a chance to get spend enough time around them.

"She should be fine once that arm heals. Although, I recommend that she get plenty of rest and eat larger portions at mealtime. She's not supposed to be as thin as she is." Solomon nodded, ignoring the suspicious look the doctor gave him for only a second before seemingly shrugging it off.

"Now, what say we take care of you? I may not be an expert on Fishman biology, but it shouldn't be too different from a Human's for me to be able to give you a general examination."

Solomon hesitated, not feeling as comfortable as he was with he idea as he was a few moments ago. Dr. Trafalgar noticed the way he went rigid and gave him an out. "Or we could do it later, before you leave?"

But he shook his head. "No…let's get it over with. There's no real reason in putting this off." After that, the doctor and nurse duo were very careful in examining the large Fishman, explaining everything they were doing before they did it.

The unconscious tremors they felt as they worked on him told the same story that the almost impressive, and certainly appalling, amount of healed and still healing scars told.

"As far as we can tell, you should do the same as that young woman over there. Plenty of rest and lots of nutritious foods at mealtime." The doctor pulled out a pencil and a small notebook, scribbling something down before ripping it out.

"Here, this is a list of medicines you should apply to those scars to make them heal faster. The longer they take to heal, the more chance there is of something nasty getting inside them and causing an infection. Be sure to take them all." He gestured to Lilith. "The names I've left marks next to are the ones she should be given. And only those."

Solomon nodded, taking the piece of paper and then moving to sit near Lilith. The whole experience had left him needing to think about things for a little while. And being near Lilith, near someone familiar, helped him to do so.

Sabaody Archipelago Marine Base, Private Docks, Dock #11

"Vice-Admiral Garp, sir!" The man in question looked up from the plate of food in front of him, swallowing an almost impossibly large amount of food in one go. He noted that the marine, 'chore boy' he corrected himself once seeing the lack of a uniform, standing in front of him was one of the new "recruits" assigned to his ship a few months back.

While they were technically marines, as far as the paperwork went, they weren't assigned an actual rank or any other responsibilities aside from the menial tasks they carried out onboard ships and naval outposts.

It wasn't all that surprising as to why they would send him, a chore boy, to deliver the message, though.

The men and women under his command knew better than to interrupt him when he's enjoying a meal, that was when he was the most out of control, so whatever the young man had to say was important enough that it couldn't wait for him to finish and likely to earn him an enthusiastic response.

And no one bothered to tell him what Garp was like when he was eating. Something that's almost become a rite of passage on Garp's ship for all incoming "recruits". One that its victims feel all too justified in carrying out themselves.

"An urgent message from HQ just came in, sir!" The chore boy stood at attention, keeping direct eye contact with Garp.

'A bold move for a brat without so much as a rank to look at a superior officer, a Vice-Admiral at that, so disrespectfully.' Garp mused to himself. 'Tsuru or Sengoku might've just given the boy a heavier work load to teach him a lesson. But if that look in his eye, that intense spark of willpower and determination, is anything to go by, he might have the potential to be a strong marine someday.'

The possibilities running through Garp's mind of what he could do with such potential manifested themselves through an eager, yet maniacal, grin. 'Or maybe not.' The grin left his face just as quickly as it came.

'He could just be another brat who sees himself as something more than he actually is. Too many of those joining our ranks these days.'

The chore boy, seemingly forgotten by Garp who'd begun shoveling food down but in a more contemplative manner, cleared his throat. When that didn't work, he addressed the Vice-Admiral directly.

"Sir? The message from HQ, would you-" Garp shook his head, breaking out of his thoughts. "Yeah, give it to me."

The chore boy cleared his throat, glad that the message was a relatively simple one to remember. "Vice-Admiral Monkey D. Garp is to reroute his convoy of ships to the island of Baterilla in the South Blue to aid in the efforts to search for and capture any and all associates of the deceased pirate known as Gold Roger."

A cold silence fills the room.

Garp had managed to stall the marines for as long as he could without seeming suspicious, but that could only o so far. Still, by now Rouge and the baby should have safely left the island and sailed as far away as humanly possible.

It'd all be okay, wouldn't it? Everything would work itself out without him being too involved, right? After all, he'd helped just like he promised Roger he would. The only other thing he could do was give shelter to them if he somehow found them on the island.

But things wouldn't come down to that. Only an insanely foolish woman would put her and her baby's life at risk. Yeah, things were going to be easy from here on out.

Mentally shutting down his worries with speculative reasoning, Garp plastered a smile on his face. "Tell Bogard to set a new course. Looks like we're heading to the South Blue."

The chore boy nodded and turned to leave. As he started to walk a loaf of bread collided with his head. "I'm not done with you yet!" Garp stuck a pinky in his nose, absentmindedly searching for something to pick. "I want you to gather the men still in town. After that, shadow the navigator until you learn something useful. You got that?"

He received a nod in affirmation.

They stood silently, though only the chore boy was standing, for a few seconds before Garp furrowed his brows.

"Move it, marine! There's no time for you to stand around! We've got criminals to catch!" Jumping slightly at the annoyed shout, the chore boy hurried out the door and up to where the Vice-Admiral's second in command was.

But smiling cheerfully at the fact that Garp had called him 'marine' instead of 'chore boy' like the others did. "I bet I'll look great in the uniform." He whispered conspiratorially to himself.

Yes, Kuzan had a feeling he'd be out of his civilian clothes and into an actual officer's uniform in no time at all. With a little hard work and determination on his end, anything was possible. He might even be a Vice-Admiral himself one day.

The Royal Blue, Unknown Location

"Buggy…help…help me…" She could barely speak above a whisper, the unforgiving chains relentlessly draining her of any and all strength she'd had left.

Devlin watched out of the corner of her eye as the men in suits, who had shackled her arms and legs with weird looking cuffs, made themselves quietly at home on a ship that wasn't theirs. She tried to call the winds to her countless times, but nothing happened. Not even the smallest breeze.

It was a struggle to keep her eyes open. Every time she blinked the world around her grew much less focused. Devlin didn't understand. Why was she so powerless all of a sudden when she could usually summon gale force winds at a moment's notice? What the hell did these people plan to do with her?

Her last thoughts as she faded away into the darkness were those of immense regret. 'He trusted me with our ship…and I failed him…I…failed him…I…failed…'