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Ask to Join One Piece: Marine Justice

“Freedom is a finite currency”

The booming voice echoed throughout the ship’s forecastle, seeming to silence the pitter-patter of the rain that pelted the decks above them. Its source was a man of no less grandeur.

Near one end of a round table encircled by young and scrappy individuals stood a man with an air of nobility in stark contrast to them. His beard swayed, his robe and jacket rippled in rhythm to the waves that rocked their galleon, but his footing remained sturdy and unhindered. In an age of great chaos, there was perhaps no man more accustomed to being thrust into the center of a storm than Chiaki, or more commonly known as the admiral, “Orenjizo”

“It cannot exist without being taken from another. Give a man the freedom to assert his power and he will enslave thousands. This is the reason we created the rule of “justice.” A subjective notion meant to describe the relationship between the freedom of one man with another. In the past there has been but one exception to this rule: Straw Hat Luffy. By now I’m sure you know the tale of the man who toppled the world government and destroyed the red line in pursuit of freedom. The man who never conquered anything yet was hailed by all as the ‘Pirate King.’”

Opposite Orenjizo sat one of these new “rookies” as he had been calling them. With his boots kicked up on the table, you’d be forgiven for thinking the boy had been devoid of interest. However, as the words “Pirate King” reached his ears, the boy’s eyebrows perked up with curiosity and he leaned in just a bit.

“Luffy represented an unrealistic ideal that convinced the world we could survive without a strong government force in opposition to pirates. His journey was one of spreading liberation, and while he was never motivated to be a hero it’s quite impossible to argue he wasn’t one. A ‘good’ pirate who toppled corrupt governments and pirates alike, a beacon of hope. We were blinded by optimism to think that would be the standard. Ever since Straw Hat’s death piracy has boomed and remained unchecked. The very systems he opposed are more prevalent than ever before. History craves equilibrium, and after a few years of light we have been thrust into an endless void. That is why I have brought you all here.”

Chiaki thrust his hand forward and unraveled a cloth he had been holding, revealing an outspread flag bearing the familiar yet almost forgotten symbol of the outline of a seagull: the emblem of the marines.

“This flag has stood for many things over the course of its storied history. At one time it was a symbol of peace and protection, but near its end it was little more than a token of corruption and brutality. I have never respected the institution, but in this age of chaos it has become clear to me that the world is in need of a counterforce: the rebirth of the marines!”

On that note, a few other people whom the boy presumed to be followers of the Admiral shuffled into the room and began handing out traditional marine uniforms.

“I am far too old and jaded to bring about a new age, but you all… I sensed something special in each of you. The fate of the future lies in the hands of the young, and should you choose to don the marine uniform I will guide you on a journey to change the world. The only question that remains is what is justice to you and what are you willing to give to achieve it?”

Well that was a lot. The boy snickered to himself, attempting to laugh off the weight of Chiaki’s words, though ultimately found himself unable to resist entertaining the thought.

What is Justice to me…? His mind drifted back to the first time he remembered hearing the word. His father, the chief of their village at the time, had been lecturing him on the importance of giving to those in need. Something about how some people were born into terrible situations of great injustice and how it was crucial for the fortunate and powerful to protect them. He then recalled thinking how foolish those words sounded as he watched his home burn up in flames at the hands of greedy pirates, all to protect the life of the chief’s spoiled child and the stupid devil fruit he was unable to use. How was it possible that in one instance it’s the duty of the chief to serve his subjects but in another circumstance the people willing sacrificed their homes and lives for the chief as they felt it was their duty? How can two contradictory actions both be just?


No matter how hard he tried, he could never shake the image of his home engulfed in a blazing inferno behind him while he rowed towards the red sun just beginning to rise on the horizon, how two similar images had completely different meanings.


Finally, after his bit of pondering, he felt compelled to break the silence. “I think justice is nuanced.”

He swung his feet off the table and properly sat forward.

“Every situation is gonna be different and it sounds kinda dumb to think that one set of rules can apply everywhere. Justice should be fluid, following a certain moral code and flowing to adapt to any situation. I don’t know a lot, but I know nothing is absolute.”

Wait was that a contradiction? Lost in his own head as he often was, the boy couldn’t help but over analyze his last sentence. Saying nothing is absolute is an absolute statement. Jeez, that was dumb of me. I hope nobody notices.

His cheeks slightly flushed in embarrassment, but he decided to soldier on regardless. He grabbed the white cap, evaluating its design as he spun it around one finger. “For instance, I’m not gonna wear this whole silly outfit, but I will wear the hat. Partially cause I think it looks cool, but also cause, you know, compromise and all that good stuff.”

He gripped its bill and pulled the hat over his messy black hair, taking a moment to appreciate how comfortably it fit.

“By the way, the name’s Roh. Charmed to be invited to this cool little club.”

Roh flashed a smirk and a half effort salute to the other rookies before kicking his feet up once again as he waited for everyone else to take their turn.
 
'You know what else is a finite currency?' Zian thought to himself, legs spread wide and arms crossed defiant in his seat at the table, 'A good meal. He could've at least put out some bread and grog, eh.'

Yet his mind was not without a distant interest, slowly drifting closer like a wrecked ship pushed ashore by weak currents. After living most of his life like a pirate, the wielder of the singing sword felt he hadn't put justice to words in far too long; even running the Dark Star Bar, he felt as though he'd upended the scales of justice and buried them deep underground. Something about the aging Admiral felt genuine to Zian -- genuine in a way he felt he'd never known as a youth.

Admiral Orenjizo finished, and the first to speak - a round-faced, scarred boy, younger than Zian - got the ball rolling. Zian listened to Roh's words, but the back of his mind was disrupted by flames fluttering, flintlocks blasting away and the unavoidable clashing of steel against steel.

The savage pillaging of Sairenkosuto sprung to mind; the picture of his father - Den - setting the homes of the Clement's saviors to flame, claiming the island's water and money as his alike. Maybe it had been the typhoon that sent them weeks adrift that had ruined Den's mind -- everyone's minds at that. Then Zian saw his father pulling that woman from her burning home, clawing at the sand as she was dragged off against her will, her child begging - tearful - for an end to it all. Her face became his mother's, the child's became his own. That was the moment Zian remembered what justice could be.

Shhng!

In an instant, Zian had pulled the cheese knife tucked into his belt, spinning it rapidly around twice in his palm before gripping it tightly in his right fist with the blade facing the table as he stabbed it down into the wood with a splintering chunnk!

"Justice is the intersection of intention and consequence," The cook said, pulling his knife from the table with a dim grimace, still picturing Den's face, "People treat justice like a blade in their hand, used to cut down opposition and clear a path toward whatever they desire; to them, justice is malleable, easily stretched to fit their will. I am the blade, wielded in the hand of justice itself. Justice does not desire gold, or revenge, or glory; it simply sets the scales, and swings its blade accordingly."

Finishing, Zian pushed his sharp-pointed jingasa hat from the top of his head to rustle his own, indigo-colored hair, as if he wasn't quite sure what to do with his hands after speaking.

"My name's Zian," He said, much quieter, his conviction faded a bit, "It's a pleasure, to be here."
 
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*Sploosh!* Raluth leaped from the ocean like a dolphin, before splashing back into the ocean. He grabbed a fish and ripped a chunk of meat out of the fish, eating a still living fish as he swam. By the time Raluth reached the ship Raluth had turned he fish into nothing more than bone. He dived deeper into the ocean before using fishman karate to lunge himself high into the air and land on the ship. Still dripping, raluth struck a elegant pose. He stood there in that pose for nine seconds before making his way across the ship's deck. He grabbed his fur cloak, and threw it on his shoulders.

Eventually a ship meeting would be held. Raluth took his time arriving there, but by no means would be be late. When the meeting started, Raluth had sat there with his legs spread out and his elbows firmly planted on the table. Raluth didn't particularly care for meetings, but the admiral always had something worth listening to.

"Which is why you have to make freedom. Earning it" Raluth said in response to Chiaki's freedom is finite currency comment. For the most part, Raluth sat there tapping his fingers against the table listening to the others talk. He listened to Chiaki and the others.

"The name is Raluth, steadfast swimmer, and brawler! At your service" Raluth said slapping the table before extending it outwards for a handshake.

"Justice is fuck you, obey the law! As long as people act the way they should, everything is peachy keen. Of course... If everything was peachy keen, we wouldn't be talking right now, now would we?" Raluth said.
 

=Nightshade=

Previously Night's Shadow
Lore blinked with her good eye, fidgeting with a breath dial under the table. She sat on the edge of her seat, weight forward and posture slightly uncomfortable with the tension that had begun to enter the atmosphere. She cleared her throat quietly before speaking. “The reason the world isn’t ‘peachy keen’ is because of the self-righteous people trying to play god that seem to be everywhere these days,” she said, offering her two cents. “If people thought about benefitting others instead of themselves in decision-making, this world would be a far kinder place.” She chewed her lip and fell silent for a moment, before adding, “Anyways, I’m Lore,” as an afterthought. “I’m a sniper, and this is…my crossbow. He’s also a bird. It’s a long story.”

Maybe if there were fewer self-righteous, god-playing… assholes… in the world, there would be no need for me to be here, in a desperate bid to bring back some semblance of stability, Lore thought, unwanted memories surfacing in her mind. Maybe I wouldn’t be on solid ground. Maybe I wouldn’t be so far from home, no way back. Maybe I wouldn’t have had to fight, that day…

Fires roared, ravaging the clouds of the sky island. A pirate crew of nearing a hundred barely held off by a force of merely seven, in an attempt to allow the population of Skypiea to escape. They fell, one at a time, Lore among them. Screams of children wrenched from their mothers arms, shouts as bones broke and houses burned, war cries as the pirates advanced filled the air. The sky itself was aflame. The last sight of her father, blurred by blood and sweat, one eye rendered useless as she was hauled away by her hair, burned into her memory… Then the pain of infection, the release of cool water, the robotic movements of staying afloat—

A sharp pain on her left ear brought Lore back to the present. “Stop getting all distant and stuff, it’s creepy as hell.” The crossbow/osprey had bitten her to get her attention from where he sat on her shoulder, heedless of any possible strange looks. He bit her again. “HellooOoooOOOooo… Earth to Lore? Virth to Lore? Fuckin—”

“Stop biting me, Blue!”

“Fine. Next time I’ll hit you over the head with my wing, is that better?” The crossprey plucked a strand of hair from her tight braid for the sole purpose of annoying her. Lore, thoroughly peeved but used to his antics, suppressed a smile and kept her mouth shut, opting not to continue the hissed side conversation. “Oh, fuck you too,” Blue said with a toss of his head when she didn’t respond. “I didn’t want to talk to you anyway.”
 
Leaning back in a chair with his arms behind his head was a brown-haired boy with golden eyes hidden behind closed eyelids. It seemed like he was taking a sweet nap while leaning backwards in the chair. Anymore weight in that direction and the boy would likely topple over and potentially break his skull. After all, with no balance, anything in the world would collapse. So why hadn’t the chair fallen over with both it and the boy leaning backwards? If one looked closely, they could see that the two legs of the chair that should be on the floor to maintain some semblance of balance weren’t actually touching anything at all. They were floating almost a centimeter above the ground. In this position, the lax teen was not in danger of toppling over even if he did doze off.

Although the teen was trying to relax, he couldn’t help but overhear the pitter-patter of the rain striking the deck above them. Oh, and there were also people chatting around him too. Something about freedom, justice, fate, future, and other things he didn’t appear to be interested in. What was justice to him? Was it fluid like the waves? Did it depend on intent and the consequence? Simple as a law to be followed? The ability to act selflessly? Perhaps it none. Maybe it was all. Who knew and why should he care much? In the end, everyone had their own perspective and opinion formed by it. They would act accordingly to their own beliefs even if they came into conflict with one another. A blade could slice even the ocean. A selfless act could break the law.

Yawning, the boy named after strength opened his eyes and sat up, chair tilting forward as he stretched his arms. A light tap could be heard as all four chair legs made contact with the floor, finally regaining its balance. That’s right. Balance. Even if their justice brought them into conflict with each other, there would still be balance. The waves would still continue even if the ocean was sliced. People could still be selfless even with rules to follow. Together, they were balanced. When one completely dominated the other, then it was unbalanced. Once there was an opening to speak, the teen spoke up in a casual tone.

“We need balance. At least that’s what the belief seems to be in the current state of the world. There is currently no one to keep the pirates in check. However, that doesn’t mean pirates should be completely removed from the equation. Yes, many pirates are an evil in this world, but not all of them are. The previous Pirate King, Luffy, was an example that pirates are necessary to this world too. Without them, the last iteration marines would’ve ended up being a corrupt force that dominated this entire world. Of course, completely tearing down the world government might not have been the best idea in hindsight. Do whatever you think is necessary to regain and maintain that balance sounds like the right thing to do. But just like a chair, balance can easily be tipped over. History has shown us that countless of times. So honestly, forget everything I just said and throw balance out the window too.”

The teen chuckled to himself as he leaned back in his seat once again. “Man, it’s too early for this.” Yawning as he quietly commented on the time, the teen closed his eyes to get some more rest. His fellow marine recruits were probably confused about what he just said. It didn’t help that he told them to forget what was said too. That would mean it was a waste of time. Not that he would be bothered if they thought about it like that. However, if the teen wanted to avoid Admiral Orenjizo getting on his tail, he would have to at least say something. Before someone could speak up, he blurted out his final thoughts.

“Anyways, justice is whatever is convenient to you or the circumstance you’re in. If you’re truly free, you can adapt to any situation that comes up. It can be whatever you want it to be. Oh, and the name is Azai by the way. I almost forgot about that.” With a laugh afterwards, Azai rubbed his brown hair before he went back to lounging, but also listening.
 
Raluth watched Lore and her weird crossbow talk back and fourth. A bit bewildering, even for Raluth as he watched them bicker. he wasn't sure if he should laugh or attempt to join in. Though Raluth decided not to touch the subject. "Being on solid ground is weird. More fun to be in the ocean!" Raluth said after listening to Lore tell her story.

Raluth looked at Azai in confusion, scratching his head, "Err... Sure..." Raluth said holding his thumb up in approval. Raluth turned and looked around the round table. He let out a yawn before humming an old fishman sea shanty to himself. A shanty called "The Whalerman".
 
Having collected the various pieces of the new uniform bestowed upon him, Zian stood from his seat gently while the others spoke their bits; his ears twitched with close interest as he listened to Lore, Raluth and Azai, as he had Roh before them. His eyes stayed tightly on his cheese knife as he pulled it from the table with far more grace than which he'd embedded it. He didn't quite think much of the simple-speaking, shanty-whistling fish-man at the moment, but Zian could at least see where Admiral Orenjizo was going with the whole justice exercise.

"Azai is right about two things," Zian said as Raluth began to whistle, glancing past the younger swordsman to get an eye on the sea, "It is early, and we're sorely in need of balance..."

His left elbow bent in at his side, the index finger of that hand pointing up to the ceiling as he did.

"A balanced breakfast," Zian finished with a wide, goofy grin that betrayed his prior seriousness. He slipped the cheese knife into the cloth tied like a belt around his hip, offering a thumbs-up to the room with the hand that freed, "I think I know what you're doing here, Admiral, justice stuff and all. But there's only so much words can truly say, and this whole shindig could use some proper food. Permission to find the kitchen and fix something up?"
 

Schrift

Previously Schrift007
Dante walked into the room alone. It was odd for him, and stupid. He was violent and a bit of a nutmeg, being left alone on a ship. What could go wrong? It wasn't like he was going to run anywhere. Right? Well of course not, if he did, he'd have been an enemy of the sea if he turned his back to the marines. He took a seat halfway through the admiral's speech. He was somewhat like a child, sitting cross legged, wearing a long sleeved shirt with his baggy trousers and black boots. under the light, the swirls on his cheek gleamed a brightly under the light. They just stood out on his pale skin. Unlike the others, he wasn't really paying attention at all. To be honest, he was just there for the sake of being there. Looking at him, you didn't really see his interest. Dante played at the table, making little sparklers at the tips of his fingers. How did his mood switch so fast? He wouldn't shut up a couple minutes ago but now he was as quiet as a mouse. Maybe even quieter. This talk about justice. It was all boring. Nothing seemed interesting. Dante did believe in justice. Well justice is is justifiable by ideals, but those who weren't willing to risk it for justice probably wouldn't be able to bring it. Well that's what Dante believed. Justice can only go as far as you're willing to make it.

Dante looked up when Marines were bringing in clothes. So bland... nothing to them. No sparkle. Didn't make him feel anything at the sight of them. Though, shrugging it off, Dante took off his shirt and threw it behind him. Now it a clear look at his body, it didn't look too out of place for someone of his size or weight. A decently thin build, with some muscle. Nothing really stood out. Well apart from those various multicoloured patterns. Those "flowers", those markings which resembled firework effects. Putting on only the shirt of the Marine uniform, it didn't really make him feel anything. No magical 'oh my god I was made for this' moment. It was just cold. "Hey, old man, these clothes smell funny", he said, as he finally spoke up looking at the admiral. His voice was also childish. Quite high pitched for a boy of his age.

Now that Dante had spoken up, he took a moment to finally look around at the people in the room. He skipped over a few but those he did look at, he took in what they looked like. So far he had the gorilla with a parrot, a purple mop, a big fish man, a short guy into flowing and a brown haired potato with golden eyes. Yup, the best marine crew there could be. He looked over at the admiral to finally fully take him in. In all honesty, Dante's first thought was what kind of milk that man was drinking. There was no way normal cow milk would do that. Jesus, he must've been drinking bull's milk. Dante was getting a bit excited at the sight of him. How he didn't realise the size of the dude before hand was beyond anybody, but Dante was excited. It was like a child finding a big stick. In his excitement, the tips of Dante's hair began to emit sparks. Exactly like a sparkler would. Though unlike a sparkler, it didn't burn down his hair, instead it just stayed there. Burning in one spot.

Dante turned to the nearest person, which would be Raluth's lucky day, as he looked up at the big fish man. "Woah! You're big too like the admiral!", he said, looking up at Raluth. Dante was getting a bit excited. This was awesome. Such big people he's never seen. Man he really was like a toddler. He just seemed so pure. He had never seen a fishman before. This was his first time. Dante tilted his head slightly though at Raluth's shanty. The hell was he humming? "What are you humming?", he asked, as he looked up at Raluth once more. Jesus, so many giants here.

@ThAtGuY101
 
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~Raluth...~

Raluth had already eaten before the meet6began, but he always had room for more
He nodded, "mhmmm. A good balanced breakfast calls for the four C's; Cod, crab, catfish, and clams" Raluth said rather contently.

Raluth grabbed an outfit. He had no intention in wearing a shirt now, but he kept the uniform with him and waited for an opportunity to change.

"Hmmm... Maybe..." Raluth said when Dante compared Raluth and the admiral's height.

Raluth looked down at the boy asking questions, "What? Humming? Oh, that. Sea shanty. I was humming a sea shanty. The Whalerman. Fishman shanties" Raluth said.

~Seven Hardy...~

"Took you two long enough to get the uniforms. So slow. You two are supposed to be young, but your moving those boxes around like your older than me!" Seven yelled at two marines carrying boxes of uniforms.

Seven took a long sip from his flask before glaring at the marines at the table, then glaring at the admiral. Seven took another sip from his flask, "Looks like quite a bit of rookies ya got here. Greenhorns mostly by the looks of it, but I guess we'll see how they do. I trust your judgment, old man" Seven said calling Chiaki an old man.
 
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Toyoji

“Freedom is a finite currency.”

His first words and already Toyoji was divided.

Was freedom really …finite? She didn’t quite agree but neither could she outright disagree. There was some merit to his statement, too often did one person’s freedom come at the cost of another’s. After all, if someone was at the top then naturally someone else needed to be at the bottom, right?

It seemed simple, obvious even; but, was that really freedom?

Beneath her heavy cloaks, Toyoji lowered her head, recalling a passage she had read during one of her studies:

Freedom is the desire of most every creature, whether they consciously know it or not. However, freedom, in its root, is rather ill comprehended by the vast majority of beings’

‘Freedom to many is the liberty to choose, which is true, but not what most actually desire. No, what people want is the liberty to act without consequence.

In that sense, ‘freedom’ was a limited currency, not everyone could act with such utter disregard for their fellow sapient. If one’s freedom meant being able to infringe upon the freedom of others…was such a concept of freedom even worth championing?

She remained silent, the questions of freedom and justice—concepts so abstract, so subjective, so…bent and twisted—were posed; giving them a chance to twist these very concepts into molds that they felt were most suitable…Ha!

She remained lost in thought until a voice rang out—“I think justice is nuanced.”

Toyoji perked up.

“Every situation is gonna be different and it sounds kinda dumb to think that one set of rules can apply everywhere. Justice should be fluid, following a certain moral code and flowing to adapt to any situation. I don’t know a lot, but I know nothing is absolute.”

‘Hmmm’, he was right. Justice should have a degree of malleability and yet… That was much too vague, much too fluid. At what point would the line be drawn? How would they even determine such a line? What would be the rules upon which his justice exercised its elasticity?

‘A certain moral code?’ Her lips curled back, baring her fangs in a disdainful snarl. ‘What genteelism.’ What he meant to say was it balanced on would be his own moral code; and yet, if he didn’t have the courage to state as much before them, what hope would he have of standing enforcing it on the lawless world?

Alas, if—and that was a big IF—she had judged him correctly then he would develop into an upstanding man. However, as a fluid, his justice would mold to whatever container it was placed in. Soon after his death that moral code would be sliding to another man's metric. It was, in essence, a form of justice only as good as the man wielding it—and in this era of piracy and debauchery...? Ha... No foresight to speak of. In the best case, he would become another Luffy, upholding an era of justice for as long as he lived. But afterward? His justice would easily be corrupted.

Well…maybe that was being too critical. Hasty judgments benefited no one. However, he made a strong first impression. Roh…huh? Cute kid.

The next person in line chose to make a more pointed impression. Jumpily, Toyoji’s fingers flew to the dagger at her side—a kogatana—and she watched wearily as the next man, a lanky son of a bitch, present his views.

“Justice is the intersection of intent and consequence.”

Her brows jumped, and she licked her lips thoughtfully…she was immediately intrigued by what this man had to say; but, the more he spoke the more she jumped, not in excitement but in abject horror.

He would become the blade of justice? Swinging according to a set of scales?

Did he intend to become a butcher of men? Her eyes drifted to his knife, plunged savagely into the wooden table. She could already imagine the bloodlust behind those eyes. A quote immediately sprung to mind: ‘Kill one man and you’re a murder. Kill millions of men and you’re a conqueror. Kill them all…and you’re a god.’ Despite her thick fur and heavy cloaks, Toyoji shivered and swiftly averted her eyes, squeezing them shut.

Memories of her childhood surged forth. She knew what such impartial judgment resulted in. It served to persecute the desperate and needy, who hardly had the capacity to conform to its arbitrary rules. As they tended to say, ‘Rules are dead, humans are alive.’ How could the rules be prioritized over the cost of life itself?

He called himself Jian? To be named after a blade…how fitting.

Toyoji had hoped that Jian would be the worst of those present, but the next man to speak immediately sunk those hopes.

“Justice is fuck you, obey the law.”

She shrunk away. This one was a hooligan…she had a hard time deciding who was worse. Refusing to give Raluth another thought, she turned to the next person.

“If people thought about benefitting others instead of themselves in decision-making, this world would be a far kinder place.”

Well…yes, if everyone was a selfless saint then of course the world would be a better place. This girl was a bit—okay, a lot—naïve. There wasn’t much to be said there. At least her heart was in the right place?

After the girl went a long-winded boy who—she was delighted to note—had a point. He was a little confused, but he had spirit. He was clearly an intelligent child and had put some thought into things. Checks and balances were indeed necessary, measures put in place to ensure that righteous institutions were not misused. The only thing she could think to add on was that he had given up too early, seeming to abandon his ideal of balance once he noted that balance could be disrupted. Perhaps his thoughts hadn’t gotten that far yet; but as she say it, balance, by itself, did not mean an object couldn’t be tipped over. Balance was simply the quality of being in equilibrium; to maintain that balance, it would need another quality—stability.

Either way, he was clearly onto something, and she listened raptly to his next words.

“Anyways, justice is whatever is convenient to you or the circumstance you’re in. If you’re truly free, you can adapt to any situation that comes up. It can be whatever you want it to be.”

The smile that had been growing on her lips cramped. Was that not the definition of corruption? Never mind, maybe this kid wasn't so bright after all.

After those five, no one else seemed particularly forthcoming. Figuring she might as well take the opportunity to present herself, she thought about her own sense of justice.

What was justice to her? Justice was her older sister, a stranger who had taken her in; in spite of her heritage and with nothing to gain, she had taught Toyoji everything she knew. The work of a courtesan wasn’t much but it was what she knew, it was one of the few occupations that would even accept the likes of mink like her…

But enough of that, Toyoji shook the unpleasant thoughts from her mind.

Justice was her older sister and what she had done; Justice was an act of—“Love.”

Standing, she pulled back her hood and reveaed her otterine features.

“Justice is love; an act of love. Patient and kind, neither boastful nor envious. It does not dishonor, nor is it self-seeking; It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always preserves.”

She looked around the room for a moment, quietly.

“You can call me Toyoji.”

Sweeping her uniform up, she sat back down and donned her hood. Having said her part, she returned to thought.

While her words sounded nice, in truth, they weren’t much more helpful than Lores. Naïve and idealistic. Until she could think of some way to truly realize her style of justice she really had no right to criticize others. However, as idealistic as her ideas were, they were hers and no one else’s.

She would be like love, patient and kind, neither boasting nor envious, being honorable without being self-seeking, always trusting, always hoping, always…persevering.
 
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Sitting at the round table while mostly ignoring everything else that was happening with a blank stare, a young man appeared as if deep in thought. He was pondering the question asked by the older man at the other end of the table, a very broad question about their perceptive of what Justice is. After listening to Chiaki's speech, the young man was hit by a new wave of perspective, the world is full of grey zones and exceptions where conventional definition of right and wrong can not apply without overly simplifying the nuance of morality. With this in mind, the brown haired man decided what his view of justice will be.

Raising a hand, the man looked towards the admiral and began to speak. "If you're still waiting for answers, I think justice should be on a situational basis. Sometimes people do things that aren't very lawful which should be punished, but they might be doing it because they had no other choice or was forced to do it. I believe we should be fair in judging people for their crimes by looking at the whole picture, as in looking into why they did such a thing and deciding a verdict after taking all of that into account. Its only fair." He explained, a very normal answer but an answer nonetheless. "Oh and my name is Kayden." He added, nearly forgetting to introduce himself.

During this whole time, Kayden appeared rather emotionless. His facial expressions barely changed and the tone of his voice stayed pretty much the same during his entire speech. However, when Orenjizo had his people begin handing Marine uniforms to the new "Rookies", Kayden's eyes appeared to have lit up for the first time since the meeting began. "Ooh interesting, we're getting official uniforms for this?" He mumbled to himself. The young man quickly took notice of the hat with the marine logo printed bright and center on it. Grabbing the piece of clothing, Kayden was about to put it on when he suddenly stopped himself and put the hat back down.
 
Raluth glanced over at the otter girl as she spoke about justice as being an act of love. Everyone had their tailored idea of what justice was.

"Hmph" Raluth muttered under his breath.

Hearing everyone talk about their justice made Raluth contemplate what justice really meant to him. Raluth was pretty contempt with his response. Simple and straightforward. That's what justice meant to Raluth. That's how Raluth believed it should be. There was right and wrong. Justice cares for no one, if something is wrong, it needs to be corrected.

Raluth's train of thought stopped as he noticed Kayden speak. Though this was hardly the case as the boy was quite monotone as he spoke. Raluth stared blankly at the boy who showed little to no emotion. Raluth also thought motive should be taken into question when exercising justice.
 
Rororororo!” After hearing a few of the other speeches, Roh grabbed his stomach and curled over in his seat. THESE guys!? This is the “special” group that’s gonna take down the pirates? What a joke!”

He couldn’t contain himself, with every introduction a new level of ridiculousness was reached, and comedic thoughts consumed his find.

“I am the blade of justice.” Somebody read too many Germa comics!

-Holy shit, did that bird just talk?

Floaty dude just talked for an hour to say absolutely nothing.

This dude Kayden literally just looked up justice in a dictionary and said “yup, works for me.” He’s so boring he could walk into a brothel and dry up every bit of excitement in the room.

Damn that otter’s thicc as fuck!


“Justice is fuck you obey the law.” THERE’S LITERALLY A BIRD BRAINED WEAPON AND IT’S STILL NOT THE DUMBEST THING AT THIS TABLE!

“RORORORO.” The laughter just wouldn’t stop. Contrary to what Azai preached, Roh lost his balance, fell to the floor, and began rolling around. He couldn’t believe it, here he was trying to sound all cool thinking this was some momentous occasion and it turned out he was surrounded by a bunch of clowns.

On the other end of the spectrum, Chiaki sat with a soft smile on his lips. Ignorant, arrogant, overconfident, immature, and just plain foolish… those were the words that crossed his mind as he heard each of them speak. All the rookies were unrefined and surely doomed if he sent them off on their own… they’re perfect!

“Young Zian, breakfast sounds terrific! In fact, I’ve been hoping you’d offer since the second I brought you on board. With this lot of us trying to cook… well you can understand why I ate so much when I came to your restaurant. Chakakakaka!” He let out a bellow, reinvigorated by the young energy. “I’ll discuss your first mission over breakfast.”
 
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'Odd, that fellow,' Zian moved swiftly to the door and out, an eye widening and ear listening out as if he could scope the kitchen out on innate sense alone. Before the door had even shut behind him, the cook was dancing off where his hunch pointed him. 'Odd, the whole lot. Well, I suppose I'm about as odd as the rest of them -- the hell was I talking about back there?'

Quite passionate with his words, the cook figured he'd maybe gone a little strong -- much like a bartender's pour as it grows throughout a long and fortuitous night of debauchery.

'I wonder if the marines tip...' Was a momentary thought that passed through the twenty-something swordsman, a grin as he wandered. Admiral Orenjizo's ship was far larger than the Clement, but Zian felt safe in assuming that the kitchen was in about the same spot (and hopefully several sizes larger).

Rewarded with his fastidious approach to kitchen placement on sea-faring vessels, Zian opened a door to kitchen with plenty of space to dance, and an inventory ripe to be turned into a magnificent tapestry. Before he got started, Zian made obsessive mental notes regarding location: utensils, spices, meats, veggies, fruits, liquor, non-liquor, even cleaning and storage supplies. Like a proper mad-man, his kitchen needed to be in order in order to be.

Then, he got to painting; on his very first flame Zian first began to cook several thin slabs of pork before cracking plenty of eggs, mixing white and yolk together and sizzling them in a pan prepped with just a smidge of heated oil -- Zian set out to scramble the bunch as a safety precaution until he learned the crew's personal preferences.

As his meat and eggs cooked, Zian got to furiously dicing potatoes, onions, chili peppers, red onion and tomatoes, as well as shredding some romaine and arugula, stopping every so often to stir the eggs. In between rabid preparation, the dialed-in cook switched his eggs off from heat in exchange for the newly diced potatoes. With the potatoes now cooking, Zian mixed flour with a bit of oil and salt and added water, forming unleavened bread to be pressed thin and turned into small tortillas, finally to be baked over a third open flame. Satisfied with how cooked the pork was, he quickly replaced the meat with a lesser strip of cod, for variety.

Balancing the eggs, potatoes and tortillas (making sure to flip them all before any one side got too darkened brown), Zian put together the tomato, chili pepper and onion with basil, cilantro and lime for a sizeable batch of pico de gallo (whatever the hell that actually meant).

The chef added some salt, some pepper and a teensy bit of cumin to the eggs and potatoes. Nearly complete, he built an array of plates that set the whole ordeal up as a buffet -- build-your-own-breakfast-taco-style. Tortillas on the left, eggs, then potatoes, then pork and cod, the romaine and arugula, and the pico de gallo. With his remaining greens and vegetables, Zian fashioned a side salad, garnished with slices of lemon and lime alike. Prepared to serve, the satisfied cook got the drinks ready and set about making the incredible trek back to the forecastle of Chiaki's ship.

Gone but half an hour during his whole ordeal, Zian returned, triumphantly kicking the door open with a vaunted: "A-HA!"

Balanced about from his forearms to his shoulders were the plates, which he set about in the table everyone sat at with the grace of a dancer as opposed to a swordsman.

"And here, and here, and here," He said, placing the food in the center of the group while dispersing clean dishes and silverware, "And this, and that, and over here, and there you go-"

With the food and plates evenly distributed, Zian turned about face and waltzed back out of the forecastle, twisting his long body toward some sort of device he'd appropriated as a makeshift serving table just out of everyone elses' view (as it was actually too wide to fit through the door as he'd feared.)

Then, with another heel turn, Zian came back carrying three pitchers of drink in his right hand, alongside two bottles with plenty of cups stacked upon their stouts in his left.

"To drink we have water, and orange juice and we have coffee," Zian said in his polite waiter voice, setting the pitchers in a neat row behind the food and plopping cups in front of everybody. "As well as a little champagne and rum. Hopefully this does the trick."
 
~Seven Hardy...~

During the meal, Seven was quiet for the most part, enjoying the meal and getting plenty rum. Not making a single complaint the entire time. Something Seven almost never did. it was rare for him to have nothing to complain about. Seven even smiled for a brief moment.

~Raluth...~

"Fish. There's never a wrong time to eat salmon and tuna" Raluth said snapping his fingers.

Raluth looked over at old man Chiaki wondering what the man was thinking. Clearly all good things, no doubt. Raluth was pleased with this thought.

"Hwa hya hya hya hya!" Raluth let out a chuckle as well.

Raluth wondered what the chef would cook. Raluth left the room and got changed in roughly two and a half minutes. Raluth had found a room with no people in. He took his pants off and putting his new marine pants on. He slapped with old belt on with his own belt buckle, a silver shark teeth/jaw on his belt buckle with the marines logo in between the shark teeth.

Raluth eventually made his way to the breakfast table, taking only two minutes to change. Eventually the food was finished. Raluth wasted no time in getting cod. Raluth got some of the other food as well in optimal portions. Raluth was hungry, but not greedy. He drank water, but also drank some of the champagne.

"I'd like to raise a toast! To the great marine chef for this fine outstanding meal!" Raluth said lifting his glass.
 
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*sniff sniff*

The savory scent of Zian’s masterpiece permeated throughout the room and gained Roh’s full attention and snapped him out of his laughing spell. He rose from the floor with great eagerness for the meal to come and attempted to wait in his seat like a respectable adult for a few brief moments, though his feet continued to tap with excitement.

Screw this guy and his toast, I just wanna eat!

“Yeah, yeah. Cheers, whatever.” Roh halfheartedly raised a glass and sat it back down just as quickly before making a break for the food. Mound after mound, the boy shoveled piles onto his plate. A well cooked meal was a rarity in his line of work and he knew better than to let the opportunity pass him by.

It was great food, no question about it, savory, salty, spicy… delicious! But something was missing… something sweet.

“Hey chef, what kinda breakfast is this?” He questioned through a mouthful of food. “Where’s the sweet stuff? The waffles, the fruits, the French Toast!?”

“Chakakaka!” The admiral couldn’t help but chuckle as he picked away at his own meal with the proper silverware. Clearly the boy had been starving and yet he had the audacity to complain and ask for more from the provider of his already free meal. However, as much as he would have liked to continue basking in the youthful energy, there were greater things at hand.

“Xaymaca island has become a hub for slavery. Its dense forests and fertile lands on the east have been converted into large plantations, and the beaches to the west are a notorious human marketplace. Our goal is to liberate the people of the island and reclaim it as the new marine headquarters.”

As he spoke, Orenjizo unfurled a large map of the island and pointed out each location. “The first step of our mission is to acquire information. We have received intel that a new shipment is expected to arrive at 7:00. Your job is to infiltrate this ship, steal its travel logs, and report back to me. From the travel logs we will be able to determine what pirate crews are affiliated with the island and better prepare for our eventual takeover. I would attend, but this ship is far from stealth… and I’m afraid I would sink most of our smaller vessels. While you all take care of this, I’m heading off to meet an old friend. After you finish your breakfast, leave at once! I assume some of you know how to navigate a boat.” On that note he turned and left the table, returning to his captain’s quarters.
 
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