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Private/Closed Golden Seas of the Grand Line


@Rex , @Seyriub , @Pokemon Master Blue , @Mr.RMA

A thick fog muffled Jaya's port city of Mock Town that morning. The place remained mostly asleep after a night of drink or selling drink to pirates, though the docks were already bustling with workers, the smell of the sea at their noses and the sound of the waves surrounding them.

Just a half hour after the sun had fully risen, a new sound crossed the water. Clanking metal, like chains bumping against each other. As the sound grew closer, a silhouette began to fade in through the fog. A smallish ship, a schooner, seemed to materialize from the ocean of the Grand Line. As she approached, the few workers who had taken note of her noticed that the only sound coming from the ship was that ghastly clanging, like the chains of the damned. Even as she drew closer, the normal sounds of crew preparing to dock never came.

Of course, despite the ominous entrance, Atrox Sailor wasn't actually haunted at all. On her bow, which was adorned with a figurehead of a snarling panther, stood her captain, a man known as "Chain Gang" Jay. Jay stood out even among pirates, with his long black cloak that for some reason had no sleeves, possibly in order to reveal the tattoo of a Jolly Roger held together with chains on his left shoulder. Jay was also the reason for the sound of chains that emanated from the ship. The entire ship was draped in chains, some hanging from the masts, but the majority were moving on their own, manipulating sails, and a mass of chains covering the wheel, remotely steering the ship.

As Atrox Sailor approached, a single large chain extended from the mouth of the figurehead and reached up, wrapping around the captain's waist and lifting him, placing him gently on the dock as the ship autonomously began the docking process. As he stepped on to the dock, Jay pulled half of a chain link with pointed ends and a small hammer from his duster, as well as a flyer which read,


He tacked this flyer to a post near where the ship was docking with the half chain link, then turned and made his way into Mock Town.

Jay spent the next few hours posting and handing out more flyers, these reading:


Having posted these all over town and generally satisfied with himself, Jay let the last of the flyers loose, to spread by the wind, and made his way back to the ship.
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Resident Furry
He was finally here, Mock Town. By all appearances a sleepy resort town, it was, in truth, the greatest den of pirates on the Grand Line. Or, at least, that's what Veks liked to think. He had booked passage on ship after ship, working whatever job he was provided. He had come here all the way from Loguetown, where the stories of Gold Roger had inspired him to become a pirate, and seek out the riches of the Grand Line.

He had an appearance to match his desire for riches, a weasel with fur in various shades of russet and cream. He'd picked up a particular fruit on one of his many island spanning voyages, a Zoan Type Devil Fruit, creatively known as the Weasel-Weasel Fruit. It wasn't the most spectacular of fruits, the ability to turn into a creature barely bigger than a rodent didn't seem so impressive compared to those who could throw fireballs.

Still, he had put it to good use, mostly using the hybrid form as a decent way to hide his original appearance. He'd run away from home, after all. And if he was going to become a big name pirate, that meant having a massive bounty, with his face on posters. He'd rather be seen like this, rather than give his parents in Loguetown any idea of his movements.

He was padding across the deck on the balls of his feet, helping unload cargo from the small fluyt he'd signed on to to get to Mock Town, when that ship arrived. A ghost ship, covered in clanking chains. All it would need was an eerie fog and it would scare even the least superstitious sailor. All worked on his small vessel stopped as the schooner glided into port and docked itself autonomously, the chains that drove it then dropping its one passenger off.

He was an odd looking man, and that was saying something coming from Veks. The man hammered something on one of the posts on the pier his ship was docked on, then disappeared into town. This man had to be some sort of devil fruit user, and coming into town on an otherwise empty ship certainly caught Veks' interest. Unfortunately, there was still more work to be done, and he couldn't just slink off.

It wasn't until the end of that day's work, when Veks received his meager pay, that he caught the man returning to his ship. In all the time he'd been working, no one else had stepped onto the pier the ghostly schooner was docked on. The weasel weaved through what crowd there was on the dock as he made his way to the chain-dressed ship, and read the flyer that peaked his interest much more than the ship itself had.

The man was looking for shipmates, and looking for a crew in Mock Town could only mean one thing. This man was a pirate. This was it, the start of the rest of Veks' life, his path to riches, resting in the pier before him. The weasel grabbed one of the many chains hanging around the vessel, and hauled himself on board.


Magearna before it was cool
Piracy was proving far more difficult a task than it had appeared from a Marine's viewpoint... For the longest time, Garrick had thought these rebellious ne'er do wells had lived lives of simple anarchy and laziness, though, clearly that was what he was conditioned to think by his former organization, because living on the other side was absolutely hellish. Very quickly he had made the decision to wrap his particularly... significantly designed coat around his waist instead of wearing it directly, realizing that a clueless wanderer in Marine garb would likely spell trouble one way or another, whether or not anyone actually believed he was no longer working for them. Not like he could wear his coat the same way anyways. Ever since he'd given up on the Marines, realizing the corruption and self-serving nature so many of his former peers possessed, he could never get the coat to stay on him in that caped sort of position all the other higher-ups always wore theirs in. Without his former privileges, Garrick resorted to a life of repairing and renovating ships of all sorts, a talent he was quite skilled with, though his reputation in the field was hardly relevant, resulting in dirt-cheap labor prices.

It was a miracle that he'd landed anywhere near the Grand Line in the first place considering just how shoestring his budget had become, in the company of some more particularly... menacing sorts among the town population. Mock Town they apparently called it, an unusual name, though perhaps it was a warning. A beautiful looking place, with a lot of rough or shady looking citizens... clearly looks were deceiving about this place one way or another. He really should have done some more research on these places within the Grand Line outside of major military presence, but, that was the frustrating thing about hindsight, he had no reason to do so when the opportunity was present, this change in occupation was completely unplanned.

Now he was just wandering about, occasionally calling out his availability for cheap repairs and navel construction, though the usual response, if any, tended to be a harsh shove and a call to shut up, so, he was starting to figure a more material-based advertisement would prove more beneficial, if he could find any of which he could afford to distribute. Coincidentally, the wind decided to grant him an idea as if threw a piece of paper into his face, nearly knocking him off the harbor he was walking along out of the sheer surprise alone. A flyer for a crew it seemed, surely, this would attract at least a bit of a crowd, everyone was trying to be a full-out pirate these days, even he for that matter... in fact, he probably should have been thinking of using this as a rare opportunity to join a crew himself, but, in a place like this? Within the Grand Line? Yeah, that's why he was here in the first place, but the cold feet had quickly set in, and he was setting aside money to get out quick. Others though, surely they were either looking for a crew or simply curious over the kind of person assembling one with a... panther ship...

Yes, there would be a crowd at this advertised location, he was sure of it, and with that crowd, there would be a number of rejects, those who don't get in for one reason or another, and those people would probably need someone to get their meager sailing vessels fixed for their shameful return to fishing, or harpooning, or... drinking on the open water, whatever the hell these people did in their spare time. Sure, this wasn't the greatest plan, but, it was a plan, and he liked having plans, an agenda, something to do. Mindless wandering was the opposite of doing stuff, and it was killing him, he'd lived on plans and schedules and reachable goals, he wanted that back somehow. This was a small bit of that lifestyle at least, but, of course, he had to ignore the fact that he was mooching off someone else's own schemes, not like he didn't do that in the Marines as well.

Hastily scribbling a makeshift sign of his own on the back of the flyer still in his grasp, he hastened his way over to the schooner with the vicious-looking feline at the prow. Someone certainly liked his chains by the look of it, the ship was completely decorated in them. It gave off a rather ominous sort of ambiance, and Garrick had half a mind to wait for another flyer to come by with another idea, but, the odds of that happening were meager. He needed to take advantage of this opportunity, sheepishly waving about his amateurish marked up handbill for any passersby to take interest in. Never mind the fact that so few people seemed to take much interest in the ship's need for a crew, surely it was just a slow start and it would pick up in time... Garrick simply hoped those flyers were recently drawn up, otherwise this plan was quickly going to sink.
As a thin mysterious man walked into a bar in the dead of night, many thought that this man was homeless or a thug, a couple of mature men walked up to him and said "Hey, who are you"? The rough looking man said "Seth Jones"

The bar became silent as everyone in the room looked at him, a woman shouted "I-Its him! The Carnivore"! Everyone in the bar quickly ran out and went too the marines, grant it there was only a few people in the small bar of Mock Town.

The bartender said to Seth "Great, there goes all of my customers" Seth stated "Sorry, but, I have a question" the bartender said "what is it" "The man known as Fire Fist, is it true that he was sentenced too death"? Seth said in a mellow voice. "Yes" the bartender said with a sigh "Oh, ok, thanks" Seth said as he walked out of the bar.
Seth was walking to see about any new bounties when he came upon a flyers saying a man was needing a crew, Seth thought to himself and laughed "Tsk, wonder if he needs a cook or just a carnivore, well I may need to find out"

He changed his appearance into a half dinosaur-like human and ran swiftly to find a place to sleep and cook him a glazed drumstick from which he bought earlier that day.
"I want too see all of the world and cook anything that is possible" that was Seth dream, that was his goal, that was his mission.
Seth stayed at a small inn at the middle of town and ask if he could borrow the kitchen. He made the staff and himself a full course meal.
Bolverk Vafud slowly shambled down the tranquil streets of Mock Town, his one and only blue eye lazily observing his peaceful surroundings with a half-lidded glare as the unkempt man tipped the metal canteen into his ever waiting dry lips. It was a rather quiet day he'd observed, far more quieter than usual. Although it hadn't been too long since his arrival, he had stayed long enough to know that the quiet town was a bit more calmer than usual. Normally there'd be a brawl or two happening around in the wooden streets, the rowdy participants fighting over some obscure reason or another, but the grey haired man hadn't even seen a lick of conflict since he'd come out of his temporary lodgings and was starting to feel vaguely curious as to why.

He got his answer when a single parchment of paper flew right into his face, interrupting his seventh mouthful of delicious ale as he choked on the beverage in sudden surprise. After coughing fiercely several times and somehow managing to down the burning liquor, the disgruntled man finally pried the aged paper, which was now wet with spit, off his face with a growing scowl while balefully glaring at the deceivingly innocent-looking murder weapon. It was to his surprise however, when he found himself staring at a recruitment flyer.


"So that's what's goin' on," Bolverk grumbled before pausing to take a swig, his half-lidded eye momentarily taking on a thoughtful look as he glanced over the bolded words. "No wonder it's so damn quiet around here."

Taking a brief moment to quietly mull things over in his head, the eye-patched man turned over the sheet of paper in his hands to make sure he didn't miss anything important, before turning his body towards the harbor. His previously drunken steps turning into long purposeful strides as he made his way towards his newly appointed destination.

Maybe it was about time for him to get on with that job hunt he was meaning to get to.


Bolverk was quite surprised when, contrary to his expectations, the docks weren't exactly crowded. He'd been expecting a spectacle of some sort in the piers but it had been only the usual few rummaging pirates, or some random sailors otherwise, going about their work.

Rather nervously.

Bolverk couldn't really blamed them, not when he was staring at what was, in his humble opinion, one of the most eerie, if not creepy, ship he'd ever seen in his life. The man wasn't quite sure what to make of this entity that he was currently starring at, and yes he knew what a damn schooner was but this vessel wasn't exactly what you'd exactly call normal. It wasn't the stupidest nor the most craziest design for a pirate ship he'd ever laid eyes on, the man would give it that, but he had seen his fair share of eccentric looking ships and none of them had been quite like this particular boat.

The haunted looking thing was literally littered with chains, of all things, and looked more like a ghost ship than a proper sea vessel. Of course, he understood if the captain of the boat was trying to go for scare tactics for some kind of an advantage, but he highly doubted the would-be crew of such a ship would like having to hear the eerie clinking of chains every waking moment out at sea. That was just plain creepy and he did not mix well with creepy.

The greying man ran his fingers through his hair with his free hand while letting out a frustrated sigh.

He was seriously starting to have second thoughts about this whole job hunting business, but then again, beggars couldn't be choosers and it didn't help that he was quickly running out of berries for his much needed ale.

...He was going to regret this, wasn't he?

Suddenly feeling an urge to drink, Bolverk unscrewed the metal cap of his canteen, while halfheartedly glaring at the eerie ship as he did so, before raising the liquor flask to his lips.

Only to realize that the stupid thing was empty. Bolverk nearly cursed out loud.

The half-drunk man then proceeded to give the metal flask in his hand the greatest deadpan stare he could muster.

Of course the canteen would choose now of all times to run out. Why the hell wouldn't it?

Feeling both indignant and quite unhappy, Bolverk shoved the ale container into his pants pocket before reaching back for the pocket-pouch that was hooked onto the rear of his belt. Carefully maneuvering his hand, so as not to accidentally bump into his cloth wrapped spear, the sullen seafarer reached into his small bag and searched its contents for a few quick seconds before pulling out a half-bent taper pipe made of oak. He then placed the wooden instrument deftly in between his lips before igniting the ashes within with a quick mental thought and took a nice lengthy drag from the vintage pipe, breathing in the calming familiar oaken smoke before letting it out with a long drawn-out breath.

"I hate my damn luck."

OOC: Edit: @Tailon Sorry, I somehow managed to miss that tidbit of info and misunderstand Mr. RMA's post at the same time... (Post fixed)
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OoC: @Seyriub , there's actually relatively few people at the docks, as Rex and Mr.RMA set up.

Jay sat on a barrel near the mainsail mast as he returned to the deck of Atrox Sailor, producing a small block of wood and a knife, with which he began a small whittling project.

It was only a few minutes before the first soul with enough courage to brave Atrox's ghastly appearance hoisted himself up. The fellow was clearly a Devil Fruit user, unless there was some sort of weasel-man race living on an island somewhere.

"Ahh, congratulations, man," Jay said to the new arrival, "Welcome to the crew! This is Atrox Sailor, call her Atrox for short," he knocked on the mast to emphasize his point, then turned to point his knife lazily at the weasel-man, "You're her new first mate, kid, what's your name?"


Resident Furry
Veks couldn't help but cock his brow at the strange man sitting at the ship's mainmast. First Mate, just like that? Not that the weasel was going to complain any, First Mates tended to have higher bounties than anyone else in the crew but the captain themselves. Still, calling him 'kid?' The man at the mast didn't look that much older than Veks was. Did the Devil Fruit's form make him look younger?

The weasel leaned against the railing he'd hauled himself over, and crossed his arms, "Well, thank you, Captain." Veks scanned the deck before speaking again, "I take it punctuality was the primary trait you were looking for in a mate. I'm Veks." He stood up properly, then peered over the side, trying to locate any hatches. "Call the ship what you like, I'm more interested in her armament. What does she have, four guns? Six?"

His eyes briefly passed over the pier he had climbed on board from. There was a man there, waving around a piece of paper. A marine, by the looks of him. That was certainly interesting, he was far from home, here in Mock Town, and surrounded by people who hated his guts on principle. The lawman had balls, Veks had to give him that.

Other than that, there were a few gawkers, of which, only one briefly held the weasel's interest, a severe looking man glaring at the ship through a cloud of smoke. He hoped that man wasn't planning to join them, tobacco made Veks' fur stink. His cursory glance of the ship and its surroundings done, the weasel returned his glance to the man at the mast.


Magearna before it was cool
It was starting to become rather dreadfully evident that only a small scattering of people were even paying any mind to the hiring ship, aside from one individual that appeared to be conversing with someone on board. A... what was that, a weasel? Oh, it hardly mattered anyway, this was proving disastrous for Garrick's own little agenda. Apparently his attempt at hiding his history with the Marines was also proving a pathetic one, but he should've suspected as much... even wrapped around his waist, it was obvious just what the coat's design entailed... but he'd be damned if he got rid of it after all the terrible trouble he went through to get it in the first place. Still, that meant all the slimmer his chances of eating anything outside of the nearest rubbish bin this week... He was going to need to start getting a little more assertive again, maybe if he aimed towards only one person at a time he wouldn't so easily get pushed aside and cursed out... or maybe it would just raise the odds of a bullet through his head or a cutlass through his gut. Either way, he had to try something else, and he forced the potential negative consequences out of his head in his desperation to get a few damned coins from any willing sod in this blasted town.

His choices were few and far between, but at least a couple people weren't quickly making their way to some undisclosed destination and actually sticking around this side of the harbor. So then, who to make a pitch to first... Most of the lot looked rather unsavory in some form or another, but one in particular seemed to dwarf the others in that department, standing there all disheveled-like with a pipe in his mouth and a patch over his eye. The years certainly didn't appear to be very kind to him, but these pirates tended to like going for that sort of appearance, at least, as far as the former Marine knew of them that seemed to be the case a lot of the time. Maybe the ruggedness inferred great experience and, more importantly, great wealth? He decided to throw caution to the wind and give it a shot, approaching the man with the flyer still held out on display in his grasp.

"Ah, excuse me, sir, but you look like you've seen plenty of harsh waves out at sea in your lifetime, surely you, or, uh... someone you know, has a ship of some kind that could use repairs or renovations? I offer the most appealing sorta deals you could find around these parts, honest ones too, contracts and all, totally official... I mean uh... unless you're not privy to that sorta thing in which case, I assure you I'm quite flexible when it comes to conducting business, whatever works best!" He was half-inclined to just walk away at that and drown himself from how embarrassing he thought he sounded, but, it was all the dwindling optimism he had that kept him waiting there for a response.
Bolverk gave the scruffy man a once over, instantly feeling himself sober up, as he saw him approach from the corner of his half-lidded eyes. Auburn hair and hazel eyes, looking to be about 5 feet tall, his physical appearance didn't seem to be too out of the ordinary. No, what had caught his attention however was the fact that the stocky man was wearing a marine officer's coat, granted, it looked a little worse for wear, but it was an officer's coat none the less. He would recognize the blasted thing from a mile away after having run into it so many damn times in the past.

The half-blind man clicked his tongue in annoyance.

If he had known that dawdling around meant that he'd attract unwanted attention he wouldn't have stuck around so long. Granted, he hadn't exactly expected a marine to be in Mock Town of all place, but bygones were bygones and as much as he'd like to curse his heart out right now, this was not the time.

Taking one last drag from his favorite pipe before safely depositing the sacred object into his back pocket-pouch, Bolverk slowly turned his body while he carefully positioned himself in a lax semi-defensive stance, making sure he didn't alert his would-be aggressor, as he watched the marine approach him with narrowed hawk-like eyes.

He was a pro, the eye-patched man noted, moving like that of a hunter homing onto his prey.

It felt like an eternity before the 'good-doer' finally stood in front of him, standing not even two feet away.

The white-blonde breathed out, releasing the gray air of oak and ash to surround him as he felt the tension in his heart rising like a crescendo. The sea-farer mentally prepared himself for the inevitable conflict.

It would only take him a second to cross the distance.

The Hazel eyes met blue and the man opened his mouth.

Bolverk felt his lips twitch.

"Ah, excuse me, sir, but you look like you've seen plenty of harsh waves out at sea in your lifetime, surely you, or, uh... someone you know, has a ship of some kind that could use repairs or renovations?"


"I offer the most appealing sorta deals you could find around these parts, honest ones too, contracts and all, totally official... I mean uh..."

Bolverk stared, shocked still, dumbfounded at the nervous marine officer that was asking him sheepishly about new job opportunities, before mentally shaking himself free from his numbing disbelief. This was a ploy, a trick, in order to get him off-balance. The marine was clever, he would give him that, his good acting almost had him believing his stupid act. There was no way in all hell that a man that moved like a trained killer would be so... so...

"...Unless you're not privy to that sorta thing in which case, I assure you I'm quite flexible when it comes to conducting business, whatever works best!"


He wasn't tricking him. The marine was actually being genuine.

The graying man felt whatever expectations he had crumble to dust. The sheer amount of disappointment was starting to physically hurt.

Bolverk palmed his face, rubbing his aching temples with his fingers while letting out a long suffering sigh, before he spoke with his usual rough voice.

"I'm not hiring."

He jerked his free thumb towards the haunted looking ship.

"But they are, and with any luck, there'll be enough room for the two of us."

Looking for a job when a hiring ship was right in front of him... just my luck, running into a damn airhead of all things.

Just my damned luck.
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Seth was anxious to see what the crew was like. He wondered if they were looking for a cook, so he gathered up his thing and his courage to go see if was needed for the high seas.
Seth Jones left the inn to venture towards the docks, because it was day light he hesitated at morphing into his hybrid form.
Exhausted, Seth Jones saw a couple of people down at the docks he wanted to jump into the conversation but, he was puzzled because of the chains hanging in a ominous sort of way.
"Well, here we go" Seth said to himself as he started to walk slowly.
Seth Jones saw what looked like a weasel-human "A Zoan Devil fruit user"? He thought.

Seth looked to see who was the captain and wanted to talk to him. "Is it that weasel guy, some punk dude, and what looked like just a normal guy." He thought.


OoC: @Pokemon Master Blue Jay and Veks are on the ship, they wouldn't be visible from the dock.


"Guns? Hmm, if I remember right, she's got 4 main cannon and pairs of swivel guns at the front and back," Jay replied to his new first mate's query, "I'm Jay, by the way, folks call me 'Chain Gang'; you can probably guess why."

Jay hopped up quickly from his barrel, crossing to the rail where Veks was leaning to look over the side before speaking again, "Welp, they're not coming up anytime soon, what say we go down?"

With a wave, a pair of chains slid from nowhere, rising out of the deck and snaking over the railing toward the ground. Jay grabbed hold of one, beckoned Veks to do the same, hopped over the railing, and rode the slowly descending chain back down to the dock.

Jay landed on the dock among just a few other men, an older guy smoking a pipe, a wild man looking dude, and a guy with a Marine coat wrapped around his waist. He gave them another once over, then addressed them, "Evening, guys. Congrats on making it to the ship, I've got a pretty simple question to start us off," Jay paused, looking them each in the eyes, "What makes you think you can join my crew?"


Magearna before it was cool
Not hiring? Great, another one scared off, Garrick initially thought in dismay, though the truth of the matter was perhaps just a bit more unsettling. Apparently this man was seeking work from that chained up ship, and was inferring he seek out a job on the captain's crew as well. "Woah now, you think I'm seeking a full-time job like that? Not so fast, I don't even know anything about whoever the hell's manning this... interesting little ship," he'd said in protest, following after the older-looking man as if the lingering hope he could still change his mind refused to go away entirely. Unfortunately for him that left him right in the line of sight of a man descending from the ship, greeting them all and asking why they deemed themselves capable of joining his crew. So this was the captain then... Certainly young looking, but Garrick wasn't one to talk there. Aside from the beard aging him slightly, some folks would consider a kid like himself hardly out of the crib. The problem here was that he didn't want to just suddenly back off when he was clearly included in this line-up of candidates along with the disheveled old man and a... rather wild-looking individual he hadn't seen earlier. He shuddered to think of the consequences of cowering out when it appeared he'd taken interest. Pirates weren't usually fans of cowards from what he could tell, better to just give a genuine explanation, and see where the hell it took him by now. He had nothing to lose by then after all.

"Well, uh, if I may take the opportunity to speak up first, sir, this is a rather... unique sort of vessel under your command, with its complexities and... intricate chainwork, you could benefit quite nicely having a shipwright aboard. With the proper renovations and consistent maintenance, this schooner of yours could really turn some heads." The words seemed to just pour out of him without any real thought on his part, the sort of subconscious sensation he'd experience in a fight or otherwise threatening situation. "This wouldn't be the first I've worked on after all, I've had my hand at larger vessels in the past, never had any complaints thrown my way concerning the results of my work, and they were some pretty stern customers." More so they were pretty stern commanders, but, roughly it was the same sort of thing, he'd reasoned.


Resident Furry
Four main cannons and two swivel guns, according to the captain. It wasn't the greatest armament, but Veks supposed he would have to make do. His new captain's name was "Jay," who went by the moniker "Chain Gang." The weasel supposed that worked, the ship's appearance would probably make up for the captain's rather tame epithet. Before they could continue their conversation, however, the captain had strode over to Veks' side, looked down at the people the weasel had seen earlier, and decided that if they weren't coming to him, he would go to them.

Veks leaned over the railing again, watching the captain descend to the dock then head over to the marine and the smoker the weasel had noticed earlier. They had been joined by a disheveled man who seemed to have lost his shirt somewhere along the line, and decided to make up for it by creating the most ridiculous hairstyle Veks had ever seen. Still, the weasel supposed he should join his captain. After all, these would be people Veks would have authority over as first mate.

He slid down the chain the captain had provided for him, and arrived just in time to hear the last of the marine's stammered reply to something Jay had asked. He certainly didn't look like all that. Hell, shave off that beard, and Veks wouldn't be surprised if the marine would look downright baby faced. The weasel also noted that he stool taller than anyone gathered but the captain himself, which was something of a relief. What kind of first mate would he be if he had to look up at members of the crew? His Weasel-Weasel fruit had given him a thin frame even in his human form, so his height would have to compensate for his lack of bulk.

"Seems like a sorry bunch, if you ask me," Veks smirked. Best to start on the whole 'first mate' thing quick. If you gave a pirate an inch he'd take a nautical mile, and it would be no one's fault but Veks' own if the crew proved to be unruly.
"What the heck IS that thing, it MUST be a Devil Fruit users or that dude has some serious identity crisis" Seth said to himself in a anxious tone. He walked over towards the ship and looked at the punk looking guy and shouted "Hey, I am Seth Jones, you need a cook for your crew and if so do you got supplies for meals or."

Seth waitedthought "Maybe this could be a crew that could dominate the Grand Line and become the next big shots of the new pirate era but, a punk maniac, a weasel, and a marine. I guess that they would need some grub and some Carnivorous Ancient Zoan muscle."

"Plus, you dont mind my homeless appearance do you, you don't look like a guy who minds a dress code or some crap of some sort."

"I can also be some muscle for ya I ate a Ancient Zoan that morphs me to a Carnatorus I ain't no T-Rex but I pack a hell of a bite!"

Ooc: Sorry I can't post a good reply but I have been busy and also will we ever get bounties of course not above the captain.