Captain's Log 1

[fierybluebird]

[In blue ink there's a very flowing script from someone who clearly has no idea that this is public.]

Captains Log
Day 1 of being Captain

Teleported to strange island. Green fountain is the only clue, flying the nearby area didn't help figure out location. If it's in the New World, it's not one of Whitebeard's islands.

Surrounded by noisy idiots who are no help.

Still miss Pops.

- Marco

Comments

Written

[callmewhateveryuwant]

[What the hell? This wasn't in the journal last time he checked. Don't mind a simple reply back.]

Hello?

[Yes Yu, say hi to the possessed book called Marco.]

Written

[fierybluebird]

[After you know... FREAKING OUT and dropping the book, then throwing it at a a tree and picking it up again, Marco tentatively writes back.]

What the fuck?

[Eloquent.]

[Written]

[thetruehistorian]

[A smaller, tighter script shows up under the entry, in black ink.]

It seems your writings were somehow transferred to my journal. Can you also read this?

Text

[grandlineswag]

[Grand Line? Marco? Pops? It couldn't be. What are the sheer chances that of all the people on the Line, one of the old man's crew would end up here?

If only he could cover his own identity on these entries. Still, the knowing makes the game a bit more fun.]

Indeed. I've yet to see a single Log Pose to get my bearings.

[Written]

[fierybluebird]

I can.

How strange.

[And embarrassing. Yup.] Do you mind if I ask who this is?

Text

[fierybluebird]

No one uses Log Poses anymore unless they're headed backwards for some reason.

[Aka: NOOB. HE SCOFFS AT YOU.]

Re: Text

[grandlineswag]

Have the times changed that much? Unfortunate. You'll have to forgive me, it's so strange to come out of retirement and back to the ocean.

Though I suppose I'll have a whole new system to learn, now.

[Written]

[thetruehistorian]

My name is Robin. It seems we're from the same world. Though if this is your first day as Captain, we may not be from the same time.

[Written]

[fierybluebird]

Is that so?

[Quick thinking as he taps his quill to his cheek. Then more writing back.] What time are you from? I take it you're not of my crew? [He hopes. He'd hate to forget one of his own nakama, even if the Rainbow Mist was at play.]

Are you familiar with the Rainbow Mist? I don't remember flying or sailing it, but perhaps the green fog was related.

Re: Text

[fierybluebird]

Who is this? [Out of retirement? Shiki? No way. Shiki would have made his presence known in a big way earlier unless he was injured. But then Marco is out of clues. Unless, as Robin suggested, time was at play.]

Written

[callmewhateveryuwant]

That's what I like to know.

[Linefacers.]

Written

[fierybluebird]

You first.

Written

[callmewhateveryuwant]

You wrote first.

Written

[fierybluebird]

To myself, I thought.

Re: Text

[grandlineswag]

First, a small question of my own. Are you "Marco the Phoenix", Division Commander for the Whitebeard Pirates?

Re: Text

[fierybluebird]

Captain.

Yes.

Now answer.

Re: Text

[grandlineswag]

[Does he answer, or not? He had to weigh the options. Marco's not much good for getting information, and it wasn't like he could cover up his presence. There was nowhere to "lay low" and watch...Why not? At least they'd both know where the other stands.]

Crocodile.

Written

[callmewhateveryuwant]

...these things didn't come with instructions.

[Sigh.]

[Written]

[thetruehistorian]

[She smiles, and writes the year for him. Roughly two years after the Marineford War.]

I suppose it could have been. Or perhaps time is irrelevant to the forces that brought us here. This is a new world, after all.

- And I don't mean the ocean.

[fierybluebird]

[Marco sifts through his pockets and pulls out a set of matches.]

[Shhhh. This will work.]

[.....]

[Okay, it doesn't.]

[Enjoy a few scorch marks Crocodile.]

[Marco just sighs and picks up his quill and ink again. You did agree that Akainu was a worse fuck than all of them combined, but that doesn't fix it, you know? Whatever. This day just keeps getting better and better.]

Seriously?

[Yup. That's all he wrote back with.]

[Written]

[fierybluebird]

How can you tell? Aside from the ocean, I mean.

Written

[fierybluebird]

Such things never do.

[Written]

[thetruehistorian]

I have ways. [And while she waits for a response, she begins idly drawing the green fountain to the side of their conversation.]

[grandlineswag]

[As usual, his reply is well-barbed.]

I see that you're as eloquent as the rest of your ilk, Marco. What a special little vacation this is turning out to be. Tell me, did your crew follow you here?

[Written]

[fierybluebird]

[Clever girl.]

If I meet you back there, do you think you can help me spot what I missed? I promise to owe you one.