Set 7 - Shanks 25
Title: Down the Rabbit Hole
Theme: #17 gravity
Claim: Shanks
(Words:) 2512
Rating: K+
Warnings: None
Disclaimer(s): If I owned One Piece, I wouldn't be writing this.
“I’m bored,” Shanks told the sky gloomily. They had recently docked and their shipwright had basically kicked everyone except for his assistants off the ship, citing that he had to do repairs to the ship after their latest skirmish with the Marines.
Out of the crew, some had been sent out to find food in the forest, because for all the lush greenery that grew in this place, the island in uninhabited. Shanks idly wondered why, but didn’t think too much about it - it was a Grand Line island after all. But thus, as a result, Shanks was left with no town to explore, and a swift foray into the forest had revealed nothing more than endless trees, arranged in a surprisingly neat fashion.
“Argh, should have gone with the supplies group…”
“Oh dear! Oh dear! I shall be too late!”
The sudden voice, unfamiliar to Shanks, made the boy glance over in surprise in search of its owner. His eyes widened at the sight that greeted him.
It was a talking white rabbit wearing a waistcoat and looking rather worriedly at the pocket-watch in its hand. Wait, do rabbits have hands? Well, it was standing upright, on its hind feet, so it must be so.
But Shanks didn’t really see those things. What Shanks saw was plain and simple - adventure.
Therefore, when the rabbit continued hurriedly on its way, Shanks immediately leapt to his feet and followed the animal. The rabbit jumped into a large rabbit hole dug in the ground, and the boy followed it without hesitation. He wasn’t about to let this chance go.
~ ~ ~
He fell into a spacious hallway with a single table in its center. Doors of various sizes lined both walls. The white rabbit was nowhere in sight, but Shanks wasn’t overly affected by it - this situation was adventure enough, even without a talking rabbit. Moving closer to the table, he discovered three items placed on it. Picking up the key, which he swore to find the lock it could open later, he inspected to vial of liquid and piece of cake that was left.
He slipped the vial that was tagged with “DRINK ME” into his pocket, keeping the cake in his free hand as he strolled down the hallway to inspect the doors. The
Idly, he popped the small cake into his mouth, finding it a little too sweet for his liking. He tested the key on a smaller door than before. It was pretty awkward, as the keyhole was lower than usual. Wait. Was the floor getting further away?
A glance at the ceiling revealed that it was much closer than before, and he was actually feeling cramped in the large hallway.
“Ow!” Shanks cursed as his head hit the ceiling. “What the hell?”
He looked at the cake in sudden realization. A thought crossed his mind that the vial could possibly contain the antidote to whatever had been in the dessert. Hurriedly, he fumbled in his pocket for it, which was a difficult endeavor when one had to almost bend in half to fit in the hallway.
The vial, when finally extracted, was curiously the same size as it had been before, making it extremely problematic for him to uncork it. But with effort, he managed it and took a swig from it. He ended up finishing the entire contents of the bottle. He wondered inanely whether this was how giants felt when drinking from human-sized tankards.
That thought didn’t last long, though, as he immediately started shrinking, much to his relief. Sighing, he stretched his back, finally able to straighten it again.
He reached down to pick up the key he had dropped and his fingers encountered a piece of metal that was much larger than he had remembered. He gaped at the key that was now as long as his arm. Or more accurately, it could be said that his arm was now the same length as the key.
“Great, now I’m too small!” he complained. This was shaping up into a very weird adventure indeed.
On the bright side, this new vantage point set him level with a small door that he had not noticed before. The keyhole looked to be a size that the key could fit into nicely too. Excited, he ran towards it with the key slung over his shoulder, and slotted the key into the keyhole. It fit snugly, and when Shanks turned it the lock opened with a distinctive click and the door swung open.
Shanks gaped at the garden that spread out before him, with flowers that were taller than him and grass that reached his waist. And beyond it, he faintly saw the shadows cast by enormous trees. He grinned.
“Adventure, here I come!”
~ ~ ~
He was panting by the time he had trekked across the garden and into the forest. Navigating the forest was a problem when one was six inches tall, he realized. Moving over the roots protruding from the uneven floor was like vaulting over tables when running away from the angry men in a bar.
A flash of yellow caught his attention and headed in its direction curiously, coming to a clearing containing a large black mushroom in its center. He paused and gawked at the sight that greeted him.
On the black mushroom was a yellow-striped caterpillar, with a messy mane of dirty gold hair cascading down its back. It had its back to Shanks, but he could see a tendril of smoke rising from its front.
Shanks blinked, rubbed his eyes, and stared again. Sure enough, the peculiar entity was still there. “Shiki!?”
The Shiki-caterpillar turned to stare at him languidly, puffing at its thick cigar.
Shanks was immediately on guard, hands reaching towards his swords.
“What, boy?”
Shiki (or was it really Shiki, because the Shiki he knew was definitely not a caterpillar) made no sign of recognizing him. But the real Shiki probably wouldn’t be bothered to notice any of his rivals’ crew members, let alone a cabin boy. So the question remained - was this Shiki? He doubted that he would get an answer.
Shanks relaxed slightly with the caterpillar’s unthreatening reaction, but didn’t completely let his guard down.
“A tiny thing, aren’t you?”
Shanks wanted to retort that it was just as small, and in fact somewhat smaller, being a caterpillar. “So, is there a way for me to get bigger?”
“You just have to eat,” was the bored reply.
A tick popped on Shanks’ forehead. Wasn’t it enough that he got teased by the crew about his height (he’ll hit a growth spurt, just watch!)? He had to be scorned by a caterpillar too?
“…The mushroom.”
Halfway through stomping away in irritation, Shanks froze at the caterpillar’s continuation. His gaze snapped back to the oversized bug. Huh?
“One side will make you grow taller, and the other side will make you grow shorter.”
With that parting line, Shiki-caterpillar crawled off the mushroom and headed further into the forest on its many legs. Shanks couldn’t help but stare after it in fascination.
Tearing his gaze away from its wobbly movements with difficulty, he began to inspect the mushroom in earnest.
Apparently it had the ability to change his size, just like the cake and potion. But Shiki was an enemy. What if this was a trap, and it was a poisonous mushroom? He had to admit that it looked pretty ominous with its dark color. Would he rather stay this size, or risk being poisoned?
With a last glance at the black mushroom, he continued on his way.
~ ~ ~
There was a very large cat on a tree. Shanks was surprised that the branch that it sat on had not broken from its weight. And as if that wasn’t strange enough (was anything in this place normal?), the cat had a crescent moon monstrosity of facial hair above its wide grin. Shanks stared back apprehensively at the feline Whitebeard lookalike.
Whitebeard-cat’s smirk grew wider at his stunned expression. It finally opened it mouth to speak, still retaining its smug look. “Are you going to see the March Hare, red-haired brat?”
Shanks didn’t know, actually. He shrugged. “If this road leads me to it, I suppose yes.”
“In that direction,” the Cat said, waving its right paw round, “lives a Hatter: and in that direction,” waving the other paw, “lives a March Hare. Visit either you like: they’re both mad.”
With that, it disappeared, leaving only its wide smile and curved mustache. Creepy.
Shaking the strangeness off, he considered the directions that the cat had given. It wouldn’t hurt to check the places out, he supposed.
Walking along the path, he soon reached what must undoubtedly be the home of the March Hare, by the rabbit-ear design of the chimneys. In front of the house, a long table was set out, piled full of tea things.
Three figures sat at one end. Shanks’ eyes widened at the sight of another familiar face.
“Captain!” Shanks called out, relieved to finally find a break in the strangeness. But it seemed that this weird reality (or was it a dream?) wasn’t quite done yet. Because Roger’s companion was no doubt Vice Admiral Monkey D. Garp, his longtime nemesis. In fact they were both inexplicably crowded on one end of the large table together, having what looked like an amiable conversation over the head of a sleeping young boy seated between them.
…That wasn’t possible, was it?
Then again, after the Shiki-caterpillar and Whitebeard-cat-face, nothing could surprise him any longer. Not even the rabbit ears growing out of Roger’s trademark straw hat. He wondered who the little boy was, though. He looked younger than ten, maybe even closer to five with his innocent sleeping face.
It was definitely a very unusual situation overall, so Shanks felt compelled to ask, “Erm, captain, what are you doing?”
“Having tea,” Roger replied, munching on a scone. “Why don’t you join us, Shanks?”
“It’s always 6 o’clock, and so it is always time for tea,” Garp explained calmly, as if it were perfectly normal for a pirate and a marine to have tea together.
Shanks sweat-dropped.
“Food…” the little boy mumbled, suddenly waking up and climbing onto the table. Shanks finally noticed that he had mouse ears sprouting out of his ruffled black hair and a stitched scar beneath his left eye. Shanks watched as the child settled down next to a mountain of cakes and start inhaling everything on the plate at an alarming rate. It was gone in no time flat, and the boy fell asleep again on the table.
A commotion from the two adults shifted Shanks’ attention away from the boy back towards the enemies who were now bickering.
“You’re the one who insulted the King, Roger!”
“It was your singing that was so horrible that Time was offended, Garp!”
“My singing is perfectly fine!”
“It obviously is not!”
“Is too!”
The utter childishness of this exchange aside, this was infinitely more normal that the previous set-up. So they weren’t completely amiable after all. All was well with the world.
~ ~ ~
Shanks continued down a path he had found behind the March Hare’s house, munching on the handful of pastries he had nicked from the table before left the tea party.
It led him to a fancy-looking garden full of rose bushes, where half the roses were red and half were white… and two card-soldiers were painting the white roses with red paint?
“What are you doing?”
One of the card-soldiers glanced up but didn’t stop in his task. “The King of Hearts dislikes white roses, so we were ordered to paint them red.”
That sounded stupid, and Shanks was able to say as much when a new voice called out accompanied by trumpets, “His Majesty the King of Hearts!”
The two card soldiers immediately jumped to attention, paint brushes falling to the ground unheeded. Shanks turned as well to see what kind of person this king was.
“…Buggy!? You’re here too?”
The soldiers were obviously flustered by his exclamation. “Don’t you know who you’re talking to? That’s the King of Hearts!”
“How dare you flashily talk to me so disrespectfully, you flashy red-head!?”
“Who died and made you king, red nose?”
The clown puffed up in indignation. “Off with his head!” Buggy screeched.
Card-soldiers scramble to surround Shanks, intent on taking him into custody. Shanks unsheathes his twin swords, warning them not to come any closer. They were just paper, after all, and he could cut them into ribbons easily. Wisely, they form a circle a respectable distance away from him.
His eyes returned to Buggy, who was practically jumping up and down in rage. A movement slightly behind the other boy made Shanks’ gaze slip beyond Buggy to the back of the same white rabbit that had led him into this mess.
As if it had sensed his gaze, the white rabbit turned towards him and was now looking at him gravely from behind round glasses. Had those glasses been there before? The rabbit’s fur was not as white he had remembered too, leaning towards yellow, but he was sure that it was the same rabbit. He puzzled over this change until the rabbit opened its mouth to speak to him in a very familiar voice…
“Isn’t it about time you woke up, Shanks?” Rayleigh asked.
Shanks’ eyes snapped open to be greeted with the sight of the first mate smirking down at him in amusement. The boy rubbed his eyes and looked around in astonishment. No rabbit, no “King of Hearts” Buggy, no card soldiers.
“Master Rayleigh?” he managed in confusion. Rayleigh chuckled at the boy’s disorientation.
“Come on, it’s time to get back on the ship. There strangely doesn’t seem to be any wildlife here, so we’re moving on to the next island for supplies.”
Shanks groggily followed the older man back towards where the ship had been docked.
“A dream?” he mumbled to himself. But it had felt so real, even with the strangeness.
Shrugging, he walked up the gangplank, hands in pockets. A splash of red paint covered one shoe and he recalled how the card-soldiers had dropped their paintbrushes. He cast a final look at the mysterious island before hurrying up to the ship at Rayleigh’s impatient call. As he turned away, he could have sworn that he saw a flash of white fur between the trees. But when he glanced back again, it was gone, and the island was as motionless as before.
It was a mystery, one that he knew he would never completely understand. But then again, that sense of mystery was what made adventures so very interesting.
Is it possible for fairytales to come to life?
Why not? It’s the Grand Line, after all.
Theme: #17 gravity
Claim: Shanks
(Words:) 2512
Rating: K+
Warnings: None
Disclaimer(s): If I owned One Piece, I wouldn't be writing this.
“I’m bored,” Shanks told the sky gloomily. They had recently docked and their shipwright had basically kicked everyone except for his assistants off the ship, citing that he had to do repairs to the ship after their latest skirmish with the Marines.
Out of the crew, some had been sent out to find food in the forest, because for all the lush greenery that grew in this place, the island in uninhabited. Shanks idly wondered why, but didn’t think too much about it - it was a Grand Line island after all. But thus, as a result, Shanks was left with no town to explore, and a swift foray into the forest had revealed nothing more than endless trees, arranged in a surprisingly neat fashion.
“Argh, should have gone with the supplies group…”
“Oh dear! Oh dear! I shall be too late!”
The sudden voice, unfamiliar to Shanks, made the boy glance over in surprise in search of its owner. His eyes widened at the sight that greeted him.
It was a talking white rabbit wearing a waistcoat and looking rather worriedly at the pocket-watch in its hand. Wait, do rabbits have hands? Well, it was standing upright, on its hind feet, so it must be so.
But Shanks didn’t really see those things. What Shanks saw was plain and simple - adventure.
Therefore, when the rabbit continued hurriedly on its way, Shanks immediately leapt to his feet and followed the animal. The rabbit jumped into a large rabbit hole dug in the ground, and the boy followed it without hesitation. He wasn’t about to let this chance go.
~ ~ ~
He fell into a spacious hallway with a single table in its center. Doors of various sizes lined both walls. The white rabbit was nowhere in sight, but Shanks wasn’t overly affected by it - this situation was adventure enough, even without a talking rabbit. Moving closer to the table, he discovered three items placed on it. Picking up the key, which he swore to find the lock it could open later, he inspected to vial of liquid and piece of cake that was left.
He slipped the vial that was tagged with “DRINK ME” into his pocket, keeping the cake in his free hand as he strolled down the hallway to inspect the doors. The
Idly, he popped the small cake into his mouth, finding it a little too sweet for his liking. He tested the key on a smaller door than before. It was pretty awkward, as the keyhole was lower than usual. Wait. Was the floor getting further away?
A glance at the ceiling revealed that it was much closer than before, and he was actually feeling cramped in the large hallway.
“Ow!” Shanks cursed as his head hit the ceiling. “What the hell?”
He looked at the cake in sudden realization. A thought crossed his mind that the vial could possibly contain the antidote to whatever had been in the dessert. Hurriedly, he fumbled in his pocket for it, which was a difficult endeavor when one had to almost bend in half to fit in the hallway.
The vial, when finally extracted, was curiously the same size as it had been before, making it extremely problematic for him to uncork it. But with effort, he managed it and took a swig from it. He ended up finishing the entire contents of the bottle. He wondered inanely whether this was how giants felt when drinking from human-sized tankards.
That thought didn’t last long, though, as he immediately started shrinking, much to his relief. Sighing, he stretched his back, finally able to straighten it again.
He reached down to pick up the key he had dropped and his fingers encountered a piece of metal that was much larger than he had remembered. He gaped at the key that was now as long as his arm. Or more accurately, it could be said that his arm was now the same length as the key.
“Great, now I’m too small!” he complained. This was shaping up into a very weird adventure indeed.
On the bright side, this new vantage point set him level with a small door that he had not noticed before. The keyhole looked to be a size that the key could fit into nicely too. Excited, he ran towards it with the key slung over his shoulder, and slotted the key into the keyhole. It fit snugly, and when Shanks turned it the lock opened with a distinctive click and the door swung open.
Shanks gaped at the garden that spread out before him, with flowers that were taller than him and grass that reached his waist. And beyond it, he faintly saw the shadows cast by enormous trees. He grinned.
“Adventure, here I come!”
~ ~ ~
He was panting by the time he had trekked across the garden and into the forest. Navigating the forest was a problem when one was six inches tall, he realized. Moving over the roots protruding from the uneven floor was like vaulting over tables when running away from the angry men in a bar.
A flash of yellow caught his attention and headed in its direction curiously, coming to a clearing containing a large black mushroom in its center. He paused and gawked at the sight that greeted him.
On the black mushroom was a yellow-striped caterpillar, with a messy mane of dirty gold hair cascading down its back. It had its back to Shanks, but he could see a tendril of smoke rising from its front.
Shanks blinked, rubbed his eyes, and stared again. Sure enough, the peculiar entity was still there. “Shiki!?”
The Shiki-caterpillar turned to stare at him languidly, puffing at its thick cigar.
Shanks was immediately on guard, hands reaching towards his swords.
“What, boy?”
Shiki (or was it really Shiki, because the Shiki he knew was definitely not a caterpillar) made no sign of recognizing him. But the real Shiki probably wouldn’t be bothered to notice any of his rivals’ crew members, let alone a cabin boy. So the question remained - was this Shiki? He doubted that he would get an answer.
Shanks relaxed slightly with the caterpillar’s unthreatening reaction, but didn’t completely let his guard down.
“A tiny thing, aren’t you?”
Shanks wanted to retort that it was just as small, and in fact somewhat smaller, being a caterpillar. “So, is there a way for me to get bigger?”
“You just have to eat,” was the bored reply.
A tick popped on Shanks’ forehead. Wasn’t it enough that he got teased by the crew about his height (he’ll hit a growth spurt, just watch!)? He had to be scorned by a caterpillar too?
“…The mushroom.”
Halfway through stomping away in irritation, Shanks froze at the caterpillar’s continuation. His gaze snapped back to the oversized bug. Huh?
“One side will make you grow taller, and the other side will make you grow shorter.”
With that parting line, Shiki-caterpillar crawled off the mushroom and headed further into the forest on its many legs. Shanks couldn’t help but stare after it in fascination.
Tearing his gaze away from its wobbly movements with difficulty, he began to inspect the mushroom in earnest.
Apparently it had the ability to change his size, just like the cake and potion. But Shiki was an enemy. What if this was a trap, and it was a poisonous mushroom? He had to admit that it looked pretty ominous with its dark color. Would he rather stay this size, or risk being poisoned?
With a last glance at the black mushroom, he continued on his way.
~ ~ ~
There was a very large cat on a tree. Shanks was surprised that the branch that it sat on had not broken from its weight. And as if that wasn’t strange enough (was anything in this place normal?), the cat had a crescent moon monstrosity of facial hair above its wide grin. Shanks stared back apprehensively at the feline Whitebeard lookalike.
Whitebeard-cat’s smirk grew wider at his stunned expression. It finally opened it mouth to speak, still retaining its smug look. “Are you going to see the March Hare, red-haired brat?”
Shanks didn’t know, actually. He shrugged. “If this road leads me to it, I suppose yes.”
“In that direction,” the Cat said, waving its right paw round, “lives a Hatter: and in that direction,” waving the other paw, “lives a March Hare. Visit either you like: they’re both mad.”
With that, it disappeared, leaving only its wide smile and curved mustache. Creepy.
Shaking the strangeness off, he considered the directions that the cat had given. It wouldn’t hurt to check the places out, he supposed.
Walking along the path, he soon reached what must undoubtedly be the home of the March Hare, by the rabbit-ear design of the chimneys. In front of the house, a long table was set out, piled full of tea things.
Three figures sat at one end. Shanks’ eyes widened at the sight of another familiar face.
“Captain!” Shanks called out, relieved to finally find a break in the strangeness. But it seemed that this weird reality (or was it a dream?) wasn’t quite done yet. Because Roger’s companion was no doubt Vice Admiral Monkey D. Garp, his longtime nemesis. In fact they were both inexplicably crowded on one end of the large table together, having what looked like an amiable conversation over the head of a sleeping young boy seated between them.
…That wasn’t possible, was it?
Then again, after the Shiki-caterpillar and Whitebeard-cat-face, nothing could surprise him any longer. Not even the rabbit ears growing out of Roger’s trademark straw hat. He wondered who the little boy was, though. He looked younger than ten, maybe even closer to five with his innocent sleeping face.
It was definitely a very unusual situation overall, so Shanks felt compelled to ask, “Erm, captain, what are you doing?”
“Having tea,” Roger replied, munching on a scone. “Why don’t you join us, Shanks?”
“It’s always 6 o’clock, and so it is always time for tea,” Garp explained calmly, as if it were perfectly normal for a pirate and a marine to have tea together.
Shanks sweat-dropped.
“Food…” the little boy mumbled, suddenly waking up and climbing onto the table. Shanks finally noticed that he had mouse ears sprouting out of his ruffled black hair and a stitched scar beneath his left eye. Shanks watched as the child settled down next to a mountain of cakes and start inhaling everything on the plate at an alarming rate. It was gone in no time flat, and the boy fell asleep again on the table.
A commotion from the two adults shifted Shanks’ attention away from the boy back towards the enemies who were now bickering.
“You’re the one who insulted the King, Roger!”
“It was your singing that was so horrible that Time was offended, Garp!”
“My singing is perfectly fine!”
“It obviously is not!”
“Is too!”
The utter childishness of this exchange aside, this was infinitely more normal that the previous set-up. So they weren’t completely amiable after all. All was well with the world.
~ ~ ~
Shanks continued down a path he had found behind the March Hare’s house, munching on the handful of pastries he had nicked from the table before left the tea party.
It led him to a fancy-looking garden full of rose bushes, where half the roses were red and half were white… and two card-soldiers were painting the white roses with red paint?
“What are you doing?”
One of the card-soldiers glanced up but didn’t stop in his task. “The King of Hearts dislikes white roses, so we were ordered to paint them red.”
That sounded stupid, and Shanks was able to say as much when a new voice called out accompanied by trumpets, “His Majesty the King of Hearts!”
The two card soldiers immediately jumped to attention, paint brushes falling to the ground unheeded. Shanks turned as well to see what kind of person this king was.
“…Buggy!? You’re here too?”
The soldiers were obviously flustered by his exclamation. “Don’t you know who you’re talking to? That’s the King of Hearts!”
“How dare you flashily talk to me so disrespectfully, you flashy red-head!?”
“Who died and made you king, red nose?”
The clown puffed up in indignation. “Off with his head!” Buggy screeched.
Card-soldiers scramble to surround Shanks, intent on taking him into custody. Shanks unsheathes his twin swords, warning them not to come any closer. They were just paper, after all, and he could cut them into ribbons easily. Wisely, they form a circle a respectable distance away from him.
His eyes returned to Buggy, who was practically jumping up and down in rage. A movement slightly behind the other boy made Shanks’ gaze slip beyond Buggy to the back of the same white rabbit that had led him into this mess.
As if it had sensed his gaze, the white rabbit turned towards him and was now looking at him gravely from behind round glasses. Had those glasses been there before? The rabbit’s fur was not as white he had remembered too, leaning towards yellow, but he was sure that it was the same rabbit. He puzzled over this change until the rabbit opened its mouth to speak to him in a very familiar voice…
“Isn’t it about time you woke up, Shanks?” Rayleigh asked.
Shanks’ eyes snapped open to be greeted with the sight of the first mate smirking down at him in amusement. The boy rubbed his eyes and looked around in astonishment. No rabbit, no “King of Hearts” Buggy, no card soldiers.
“Master Rayleigh?” he managed in confusion. Rayleigh chuckled at the boy’s disorientation.
“Come on, it’s time to get back on the ship. There strangely doesn’t seem to be any wildlife here, so we’re moving on to the next island for supplies.”
Shanks groggily followed the older man back towards where the ship had been docked.
“A dream?” he mumbled to himself. But it had felt so real, even with the strangeness.
Shrugging, he walked up the gangplank, hands in pockets. A splash of red paint covered one shoe and he recalled how the card-soldiers had dropped their paintbrushes. He cast a final look at the mysterious island before hurrying up to the ship at Rayleigh’s impatient call. As he turned away, he could have sworn that he saw a flash of white fur between the trees. But when he glanced back again, it was gone, and the island was as motionless as before.
It was a mystery, one that he knew he would never completely understand. But then again, that sense of mystery was what made adventures so very interesting.
Is it possible for fairytales to come to life?
Why not? It’s the Grand Line, after all.