Chapter Text
Alternate Cover:
Blistering waves of air rise from the ground, visible to the naked eye. Small specks of sand stick onto skin, managing to pass over layers of cloth meant to keep one safe from the harsh elements of the Alabastan desert. Yet, the people from Nanohana walk merrily within the bustling market, stragglers shouting out and demonstrating the delicate necklaces and bracelets with glass pendants hanging off of their arms. Food vendors call out into the crowd, promoting their prices and comparing themselves to their competitors from the stall across from theirs. The scent of sizzling meat wafts into the air, combining with the other smells around the market.
Within the crowd of people stands the figure of a woman, struggling to keep herself from brushing up against the people rushing by in the market. Although she kept herself as close to the buildings as possible, the market held too many people to truly escape. The scent of meat had also filled her with nausea, her throat closing in on her to keep her from gagging. She did not want to come across as rude, but the smell of sea king meat sizzling always causes her to feel light-headed and disgusted.
Just as the woman tries to walk to another section of the market to escape the crowd and smell, a blur of limbs knocks into her legs. Startled yet unmoved from her spot, the woman looks down at what had slammed into her with such force. A child with a cherub-like face stares back at her, his wide eyes framed by long eyelashes and tan skin darkened by the harsh sun. His long garments did nothing to hide the skinny arms that held onto her clothes to keep his balance.
"I'm so sorry ma'am! I wasn't watching where I was going." The child then made a show of stepping two feet away from her, giving her space. His feet indicated he would dash at any moment.
The woman stares back, amusement painting her face. Her hood mostly hid her face, but the child caught a glimpse of a sharp toothed grin slowly spreading on her face. He took another precautionary step back, startled by her…unnatural mouth. He has never seen anyone with sharp teeth, typically associating them with aggressive animals such as the Bananawani.
"No worries, sweetie. It is very full here." She spreads out her arms to indicate the fullness of the space, her grin broadening when the eyes of the child become wider at her sudden movement. Her dark skin seemed to become golden under the Alabastan sun. "Carry on then. Just be careful next time, alright?"
The child did not need to be told twice. Just as he turned to run away, the woman grabbed him by the arm and swirled his body around, ignoring his surprised shout.
"Hey, what are you doing! Let me go!"
The woman stares back, unimpressed at the child's antics. "Did you really think I wouldn't notice?"
Tanned cheeks turn darker as the child glares up at the woman. "I dunno what you are talking about, let me go!" He tries loosening her grip by twisting his arm, yet her strength does not falter. The child could tell that the woman was holding back, especially since her body language showed she put no effort into her hold.
Laughing at his predicament, the woman crouches down to be at eye level with the child and raises her face, her eyes finally visible to him. He visibly jolts at the sight of her slitted eyes, the animalistic look and absence of color in them uncanny.
Strangely, he thinks about the dead fish that laid on market tables, their eyes with a grayish-white film on them that stared vacantly at the sky. That lack of color meant death to him, a sign of something without a soul anymore.
The child starts shaking uncontrollably, yet manages to keep an irritated face.
Instead of finding his stubbornness annoying, the woman lets her wide grin fall into a smaller smile. "Don't pretend you don't know what you did, you just tried to rob me..." A second passes. "And sucked at it. It might have worked if it had been anybody but me."
All caution fled to the wind as the child hears the weirdos' words. The boy's angel-like face twists in fury, the features resembling that of a demon instead. "You stupid bitch, shut the fuck up! You didn't have anything to steal anyway, you dirt-poor, famished ass bitch!" During his tirade, he kept on trying to pull his arm away, occasionally trying to swipe at her face with the fingernails of his other arm.
Unbothered by his attempts to make her angry, the woman continues, her smile falling into a grimace. "Well that wasn't very nice." A sudden squeeze from her left hand caused the child to howl in pain, his arm throbbing from the fingers that had dug into his arm. Tears gather at the corner of his eyes but fail to fall down his cheeks. She loosens her grip again, not wanting to truly hurt him. "Want to try again?"
He let loose a low growl, but kept his eyes to the floor. "I..." A hiss passed through his lips, his face unable to hide that he was sulking. "I am sorry for trying to rob you." He murmurs something about violent assholes under his breath but she decides to ignore it.
"That wasn't so hard, was it?" She then pats his head with her right hand, the metal of her two fingers not getting caught on the fabric covering his head. "Good boy." The grip of her right hand loosens all together, allowing his arm to fall to his side again.
Stunned, the child stays in place and looks up at the woman, his mouth gaping in awe at her change in mood. He had never been patted so gently on the head before (even if some of the fingers on her hand were metal), mostly being driven out through hits to his body to not harm his "pretty face." Yet, here was this woman who should be taking him to the nearest authorities, patting his head as if he had never tried to steal something from her in the first place. Should he be offended? Annoyed??
"Why..." He stops for a moment, trying to put the jumble of words in his head into a coherent sentence. "Why are you being nice all of a sudden, you two-faced monster."
Her pats to his head stop, her hand hovering over his head. She gently lets her arm fall to her side again, her body still crouched at eye-level with the boy. Blank eyes stare back at him before looking at the sky far above him, unable to look at him anymore. At that moment, it seemed as if she was no longer in the market, instead dreaming of a different place and time. "Well, you could say that you reminded me of someone. Someone… precious to me."
Scoffing at her reason, the kid let his tense shoulders relax a bit, no longer as wary of the stranger with animalistic-like features on her face. "You are such a weirdo. A strange weirdo."
The woman turns her head back to face him and gives the child a lopsided smile, a dimple appearing on one of her cheeks. He was so much cuter when he wasn’t swearing up a storm! Maybe she should adopt him during her stay in Alabasta. He could be her tour guide. And possibly another brother of hers! She could always use more siblings.
The child shudders again, the smile strangely unsettling. Was she thinking of grabbing him again?
Instead of grabbing him like he thought, the woman puts her hand in her pocket and takes out a flask of water. Her grin tells him that she took no offense from his statement. "I guess I am a bit strange." She then holds the flask of water in his general direction. "Here, have some. You look as if you will become a pile of sand any minute now."
He knows he should appear calm and collected, possibly even reject her offer of water, yet he didn't do any of that. He sprints the short distance between them and swipes the flask from her hand, opening the lid and letting the cool liquid parch his dry throat. He did not think about why her water was so cool in the first place, all he knows is that he has not drank water for several days. The fresh water seemingly renews his spirit, light entering his eyes again and his body filling with an energy he had not felt in a long time. The stranger allowed for him to continue his antics, even letting him finish the water in the container. Embarrassment did not kick in until he let the flask fall with his arm, his gaze gravitating to the sand again. "Thanks." He rubs the back of his head with his free hand, the other one offering the flask back to the woman.
Grabbing the flask, the stranger let out, "No problem, you angelic child. Or should I say demonic? Anyway, where was I before you called me a bitch?"
A rush of guilt floods the boy, yet he stood in place. He deserves whatever comes next. The lady had been so nice to him yet he had tried to steal from her moments before. It had just been so long since he had been able to bring anything home… he could barely get enough money to provide his mom with water every two days, let alone himself.
Satisfied with his reaction, the woman rises up to her full height, towering over the small child. She hears him audibly gasp but she continues rising until she stood upright. "Before you interrupted me, I had something in mind for you." A little groan came out of the child, yet the woman went on. "I was thinking..." He clenches his fingers and shuts his eyes tightly. "Of teaching you how to steal properly."
"WHAT!" Eyes suddenly open wide and look across him in disbelief, unable to believe what his ears had heard. She wants to help him learn how to steal? That doesn't make any sense! Why would she help someone who tried to rob her, someone who does illegal things?
All the woman could do was laugh at his reaction, her smile becoming a wide grin that showed off an impressive array of sharp teeth. "Of course I'll help you, as a fellow thief to another thief in training. I am one of the best in the industry, second to none." A whispered, maybe second to one, manages to slip away from the boy's ears and float as vapor to the sky above.
Still a bit wary, the child questions, "Why would you help me? How would this benefit you at all?" His eyes hold a glint of suspicion in them, unwilling to look away from her. People usually expect things in return. Good will didn’t exist in a country where the people long forgot what unity was.
The stranger waves her hand in a shoo motion, seemingly throwing his question away. A hand went to her hip, her foot stepping out and completing her pose that exhibits confidence. "I already told you, didn't I? You remind me of someone precious to me, that's all."
Still confused about the whole situation yet not willing to question everything, the child makes his decision. "Alright then, but how do I know that you are good at stealing?"
Excited at the question, the woman takes out a velvety pouch from the pocket of her clothes, tossing it up again and again. Her sing-song voice lets out, "Do you recognize this?"
Somehow, his eyes manage to become even wider than they were before. That was the same pouch that he stole from an unaware idiot that morning! How did she take it from him? When did she take it from him? His mind came up blank.
He knew that he needed her to teach him right then and there! "Fine then, I want to learn from you.” Little feet creeped closer to the stranger. “But before we start, I want the pouch back."
He lunges towards the pouch but the stranger suddenly disappears from his sight, no longer in the spot she was before. Distraught, the child turns back and forth, unable to find her.
"Are you looking for me, lil’ demon?" The boy jumps ten feet in the air, his head swirling to where he heard the melodic voice of the stranger. She had been behind him, her face grinning back at him. "You can only get this pouch if you are able to steal it back from me."
Annoyed, yet eager to learn, the child yells, "I'm not a kid anymore! And anyway, my name is Omar! I’m not a demon! Or little!" He tries to grab the pouch again but she sidesteps, leading him to fall down and land face-first into the sand.
The woman giggles at his plight, finding immense joy in his awkwardness. "It’s the perfect nickname! You will be following me around all day like a demon that wants to possess someone! Anyway, I only call people their names when I respect them." She turns and walks along with the crowd of people to see if he easily lost a target within an influx of people in sight. "You can call me Mar though. Come on lil’ demon, I can only train you for an hour."
Humiliated, yet determined, Omar launches himself up from the sandy floor and tries to follow Mar, the woman with a strange face and behavior.
As he chases at her heels, Omar never thought about why he never found the flask of water when he attempted to steal from Mar in the first place.
*****
Mar had left Omar with his pouch of money after he had failed to steal it back. She isn't a complete monster! She knew that he might need the money that day for something, so she allowed him to leave with the promise of meeting him in the market the next day for more training. Omar seemed pretty excited, especially after he successfully stole an apple from a vendor without getting noticed, so she knew he would come back.
Deciding to continue her walk around the market, Mar walks toward a stall with cloths laying on every surface, including some that hang from the tarp ceiling through pins. The rectangular cloths seemed to be meant to cover hair, the silky texture perfect for protecting it from the Alabastan heat. Some cloths remained simple, all one solid color. Yet, some held geometric patterns that seemed to hypnotize passer-byes into stopping to stare at them and their amalgamation of shapes. Others held tiny, embroidered flowers that lined the edge of the cloth, all stitches professionally done.
Running the fingers of her left hand across the embroidered flowers, Mar laments on how difficult it is for her to find anything that fits her coily, light pink hair. She knows it needs protection, especially since curly hair is dry enough as it is because of how delicate it is to any changes in climate. Her body suffers enough as it is from the horrible heat, needing constant relief. A cough from the wrinkled old woman who owns the stall catches her attention. A toothless grin meets her eyes, the hands of the old lady pointing at the cloth she had touched. Was this old lady okay? It seemed as if her skin was ready to fall to the ground any second.
"Do you like that cloth? It would fit perfectly with that light blue full-body garment you are wearing!"
Mar feels heat run across her face, a bit cut-off guard from having been caught admiring something by someone else. "Yes, this is very pretty. The fabric is so soft!" Her fingers run through the cloth again, the embroidery scratching against her skin. "Would you mind telling me its color?"
Surprised by the request, the old lady replies, "This cloth is a light blue like your clothes and the embroidery is a lime green color." Without any hesitation, the old lady snidely says, "Are you perhaps colorblind?"
The young woman felt her lips slightly stretch into a smile. The people of Alabasta always seem to speak what was on their mind, never stopping their curiosity from asking personal questions to strangers. "You could say it's something like that."
Even more curious yet unwilling to drive a potential customer away, the old woman decides to let her line of questioning stop, instead turning to focus on how to sell her cloths to the young lady in front of her. Allowing herself to get closer to the woman, the old lady holds up a hand to cover her mouth. Her whole body hovers a few centimeters away from Mar. "I'll tell you what, um... what's your name?"
A bit uncomfortable with how close the old lady got to her, Mar takes a step back and hurriedly says, "Well, you can call me Mar."
"Well I'll tell you what Mar. If you buy this cloth, I'll sell you another cloth for half off. This is a great deal that you will not find in any other stall!"
A bit annoyed at the old lady for getting so close to her personal space, Mar makes sure to turn her head exaggeratedly in every direction, then finally focusing on another stall a few feet away with cloths as its main item too. "Hmm, I don't know, that lady over there said she would give me a second cloth for free if I bought one." Of course, Mar was lying. She had never gone to the other stall at all. The old lady didn't need to know that though.
Eye twitching, the old lady grabbed at Mar desperately, trying to keep her attention on her stall. Mar sidesteps right away, her broad shoulders straightening in irritation. She did not want to possibly break someone's fingers on her first day in Alabasta.
"You don't understand dear! That…rat! She uses low quality fabric and doesn't even hand stitch the embroidery herself! Me, on the other hand..." The old lady turns a thumb toward herself, her mouth contorting into a toothless grin, "I personally make sure to get the same fabric that is used for the princess's clothes! My inventory is nothing like the vendors around here!"
Mar feels herself internally laughing at the desperation radiating off of the old hag. Maybe she should throw her a bone. "Oh, well if you say so. I did notice how much softer the material for your scarves was. The princess, you say? Wow, who would have thought that the material for her clothes would be so accessible to others?"
The old lady continues without noticing the subtle sarcasm thrown her way by Mar. "Yes, yes! The princess! That is why my stuff cost a lot more! I really am doing you a favor honey."
The word of endearment sets strangely within Mar's gut, her balance wavering a bit. She didn’t like it. Not one bit. Deciding that it was time for her to leave, Mar grabs some cloths with her left hand, raising them up to see their details better. She squints at them to make it seem as if she was analyzing the patterns and colors, sticking her tongue out a bit to complete the effect. Under her breath, she whispers a word that simmeres down to the sand at her feet.
The old hag shows no indication of having heard Mar. Instead, she grins wider at the interest the woman held in her items.
Putting her hands together, the old lady questions, "So, have you decided on what you are going to get?"
A smirk worms its way into Mar's face, her sharp teeth glistening under the bright sun. "On second thought, I don't have money on me right now. Maybe I will come back later when I have enough belli."
Mar had never seen a smile turn into a grimace so fast, the wrinkles of the old hags face becoming more prominent from her curled lip. "Ugh, the one thing I hate most in the world, people who cannot pay for their stuff." The old lady turns away from her, her foot tapping against the desert floor. "I want you to leave. Now."
Letting out a laugh, Mar set down the cloths on the stand, smoothing any wrinkles down with the thumb of her right hand. "Alright, alright, I'll go now." Shifting her curls away from her forehead, she walked away with the words, "By the way, tell your supplier that he is full of shit. These cloths are probably made from the same material as dish rags."
She lets out a giggle with the swearing behind her, quickening her steps as a rock fell close to her feet. That old hag hadn't noticed that one of the cloths was missing.
*****
An onlooker turns their head from what they had seen, amusement flitting through their face. She lowers her white cowgirl hat down to shade her face and follows the person she had seen across the market from a distance, the person who had so openly expressed her dislike.
Her interest had been piqued when she observed the woman in blue being chased by a child, her pink hair occasionally slipping from inside the hood. That hair looked oddly familiar, along with those teeth she glimpsed when she let out a laugh at the little boy (Omar?) tripping and landing on his face. Yet, the woman had instantly raised the child up like they weighed nothing and crouched down to ask him if he was okay.
Her voice had sounded so clear across the market, projecting above the cacophony of noise. A sound that easily conveyed joy, one that imitated the tinkling of wind chimes. The fluctuating tone of her voice and the lilted speech did not match that of the Alabastan people, revealing her as an outsider. Foreigners barely came to Alabasta in fear of becoming involved in the unrest and war that was brewing, which amplified the woman’s presence in the market.
Yet, her interest grew into fascination as she witnessed one of the cloths in the other's hands disappear into thin air. Was the thief skilled enough to the point that she could not see the movement of the cloth in the other's hands? Or was this the work of a devil fruit?
Such an interesting person.
“She’s someone…who can be useful.” His chair swiveled away from her gaze, his head facing the Bananawani enclosed within glass and thousands of gallons of water (glass she could break one day if needed to go against him). “It’s not everyday that someone of her status comes through a country such as mine.” His hand made of flesh gripped the hand of his chair, the leather creasing under the force of his hand. “She must be planning something. Bring her to me.”
All she could do then was look ahead and say, “Understood, Mr. 0.”
Now, she needed to decide on whether or not she should bring this person to Him.
*****
Mar can feel the cool gaze of someone from across the bustling market, giving her goosebumps that refuse to fade away after several minutes go by.
Ignoring the stare, she continues looking for a necklace that can accentuate her look. She loves clothes with character, yet she could not add a lot to her appearance in Alabasta because of how she needed to lay low. Her skin itched to be let free again, to have the wind kiss her body. Under the Alabastan sun, it is very possible for her skin to shrivel up and lead to her death, especially since she is more predisposed to dying from extreme temperatures.
A light tap at her shoulder shocks her into dropping the golden necklace she was examining. The tap felt amplified against her shoulder, even if several layers of clothes meant to protect her skin from the Alabastan sun kept the other person's finger from truly touching her.
Baffled at the audacity of this person for touching her, Mar turns around, ready to exclaim at the person who interrupted her stealing spree -of course it's not because she finds herself internally flinching at the touch of other people- when she stops.
The first thing she notices about the stranger is their thin, defined nose. Back at home, everyone had noses that stuck out and had a little bump to them. She herself had a nose that she loved dearly for its big arch away from her face. Yet, this person had a nose that seemed to be sculpted as narrow as possible.
Everything about the woman in front of her seems sharp. The sleek hair cut exactly to her slender shoulders, the long face that held no softness, and the shape of her mouth set into a small smile. Yet, the smile itself did not feel welcoming. It seemed mocking, as if Mar was not in on a secret that seemed so obvious to the other woman.
Most importantly, her narrow eyes stared down at Mar, seeming to take in everything about her existence. They analyzed and dissected her, staring from high above her. Mar couldn’t help but feel as if this stranger was conveying that they were better than her. They were someone with enough confidence in themselves that allowed it to ooze out of their being. The woman had not done or said anything yet, but Mar found herself already wary of them.
Glacier-like eyes from a foot away stir something within Mar’s subconscious, desperately trying to remind her about the woman in front of her.
Instead of listening to the nicks at the back of her mind, Mar stares on and forces herself to focus on the task at hand: figuring out what this person wants.
The woman stares for a second, taking in the hidden face and body before uttering out, “Ah, I apologize. I thought you were someone I knew.”
Mar internally sighs at the boring lie, wishing she could call out the woman on the statement. The others' gaze spoke of something far less innocent, something that could spell danger for her.
Although she wore a cloak that covered almost all of her features, it was possible that the woman caught a glimpse of her eyes or mouth. This person had something that they wanted, something that compelled them to stop her in a crowded market. Out of everyone in that market, she was the one being targeted. Now, Mar needs to find whether or not it was a coincidence that this person went to her. Maybe she could get under the woman's skin as a way to forcefully reveal the others' purpose in stopping her.
Instead of calling her out, Mar replies with, “No problem ma’am, I know it's hard to see after a certain age after all. Do you need help with anything else? Like crossing to the other side of the market?”
A slight twitch to the mouth is all she gets as a reaction, but Mar takes what she can get. Giving a satisfied smile to the woman, Mar counts it as a point she won, leaving the score between the woman and her as 0-1 in the make-believe game she created in her head.
Setting a delicate arm on her hip to possibly show that she did not feel bothered by Mar’s statements, the woman replies, “You know, I actually do need help. As one of the YOUNGEST people in charge of the community, I have been getting complaints from people around the market saying that some of their merchandise is missing. You wouldn’t happen to know anything about that, would you?” The woman forcibly keeps her mouth the same to hold that fake smile of hers.
Mar recognizes this tactic for what it is: a way to scare her and to get her to reveal information about herself. Unfortunately, she isn’t… the most tightlipped of people.
“Oh, that? I have no clue who it could be. Are you asking me because you think I did it?” At this point, Mar lifts up the sleeve of her right arm to show her hand, revealing the metallic glint of her two mechanical fingers. Time to notch up the drama. “Are you asking because you saw that I am missing two fingers and assumed they got cut off for stealing? Do you know how stereotypical that is?!” If only she could fake cry like someone she knew… for now, all she did was wobble her mouth a bit.
The woman’s eyes widen a little, both surprised and in shock at the turn of events. A small glint of… something appears within the depths of her eyes at Mar’s statement. “Of course not, I am just asking you because you were at the edge of the market and had a clear view of most of the stalls.” A small gulp, and then the fake smile returned. “It is also a pretty valid question, especially since I have seen you at almost every stall.”
A moment of silence passes between both women until the stranger speaks again, seemingly unable to stop the words coming from her mouth.
“And I doubt your fingers were truly cut off from stealing if it supposedly happened in Alabasta. The royal family does not allow for such a punishment, not centuries ago and certainly not now.”
“Wait, really?! I wonder what punishments they have! I know that usually…” Mar stops talking and mentally slaps herself. Now is not the time for tangents! “Nevermind that. I’m not from here,” Mar growls out.
“Interesting, since there are no known islands around here that partake in this practice. You must be from another blue. Actually, in the North Blue, there is an island where…” She continues her explanation, but Mar doesn't stop her. Mar is hooked onto every word coming out of the woman’s mouth, imagining all the scenes that the woman spoke of so vividly out into the air. Mar fails to notice how the others smile is slowly becoming wider, turning a bit more genuine every second they continue talking about an island in the North Blue that held unusual punishments for thieves.
Wait a moment… augh, she got distracted again! All she could think about was how the other person deliberately took control of the conversation in the span of a second.
Pissed off at how her words were not taken at face value (and somewhat intrigued, what punishments are usually given to thieves in Alabasta?), Mar decides to end their little charade there. She did not need anyone to distract her! Even if she really wanted to hear this person in a thick coat (isn’t she sweltering in there?) talk about things. She also didn’t want to acknowledge that they were now tied in the insult game she had set up in her mind.
“Whatever, I hope you get your eyes checked. I've heard that you need yearly checkups after the age of sixty.” Slightly turning, Mar declares “I need to get going. Catch you never!” She tries walking a few steps away, feeling a bit uncomfortable with the alarm bells running through her mind even as her sight left the woman. She has a mission to do. After all, her targets had stolen something precious to her. She did not take kindly to others stealing what is hers, so she knows she has to pay them back tenfold.
If only they could arrive already. They were supposed to arrive a week ago.
She thought they would arrive first, yet nobody mentioned having seen a girl with hair the color of what she imagined was the softened sky after a long day. She just seemed... ready to wisp away at the slightest tug of wind.
Her precious person.
Before Mar can walk away entirely, the woman stops her by grabbing on to the bend of her elbow.
Frustrated, Mar groans and turns around again, ready to tell the other woman that she cannot talk with someone who so obviously has a stick up her butt from all the bullshitting they did.
Yet, before she could let out a sound, the woman drags her to an alley they had been close to and uses one hand to push her against a wall. Her other hand forcibly grabs Mar's chin, bringing her face closer to the other woman and simultaneously keeping her in place. In shock at the sudden action, Mar feels her mouth open slightly to let out a gasp.
The other woman widens her grin a bit, her eyes seemingly becoming needles that stab into Mar's skin. Mar did not think that the gaze of the other woman could get colder, yet it froze her in place.
The woman's eyes roam Mar’s whole face, settling for a second too long on her lips before staring right into her eyes again. “I recognize who you are now." Mar's blood runs cold, her throat becoming dry. The hood of her cloak had fallen down, exposing her face to the world. "After all, it is not everyday that someone has a bounty poster that says ‘Only Alive’ on it. The Herculean Monster Marcelline, isn't that right?”
Mar finds herself unable to breathe, little flecks of light jumping around in her vision. Usually people left her alone because of her appearance, yet here was this person who had her against the wall and had no qualms about confronting her. She could easily push the other one away -heck, the body of the woman would probably hit the wall across from them and bend from the force- but. She couldn’t. MOVE. The force the other woman emitted from her presence overwhelmed Mar to the point that her fingers could only twitch against the wall. Her touch… overwhelmed her senses. It spoke to her.
She is feeling tired. Her right foot is twitching from the strain of keeping me in place. Instead of feeling the heat, she feels a coldness within her that seeps at her being… a coldness that just takes things away from her…
The woman slowly shifts her hand upwards from her elbow and sets it against both her wrists, holding her arms in place. One of the woman's knees settles in between Mar's legs, keeping her close to the other's body.
Mar hates how small she feels with the woman towering above her, even if she herself was broader and certainly stronger than the other woman. The places where the other woman was grabbing her from BURNED, bringing up images of dirty wood, fire, and hands keeping her from moving as her skin burned.
The woman with the sharp nose laughs, the sound grating in the air between them. A laugh only villains can make. She moves her lips close to one of Mar’s ears, whispering, “People get ‘only alive’ bounties for one of two reasons.” The hand holding her chin loosens and one of the fingers gently follows the curve of Mar's jawline.
“They either have connections to people in higher positions in the world that allow for leniency in their bounty or…” The woman narrows her eyes even further, turning her gaze as sharp as a knife. “The person happens to know or have something that the world government desperately wants that cannot be obtained with their death.”
Letting her smile grow a bit more cruel, the woman moves her thumb and places the pad of it gently in the middle of Mar's lips. “I wonder which reason you have.”
At the touch, Mar's mind shuts down as bile simultaneously rises up her throat. She hates the feeling of skin. The way it imprints on your being, left you stuck with a mark for eternity. How it tries to speak to her, overtake her. The words uttered by the woman echo in her head, twisting and turning all of the brain cells in her head before she comes to a horrifying realization.
The woman with the sharp features is familiar, yet not because she personally knows her. Although the face has been elongated with maturity and her eyes have become harsher than the normal persons, the woman used to be a child.
A child with a bounty poster.
A child who destroyed a whole island and several marine ships.
A child on the run.
A child who she was warned about her whole life by...Them.
A child that has the ability to turn her whole life upside down.
A child who is now an adult that would kill for what she has with her at that moment.
The adult in front of her…
“Nico Robin?” Mar whispers, her eyes becoming unfocused from the shock while her hands start shaking from the fear.
Nico Robin, for the first time since their interaction started, has her smile turn downward into a frown, her eyebrows furrowing with displeasure.
“How do you know that name?” She demands in a calm voice, moving her thumb from Mar's lips and using it to latch around her throat, applying enough force to choke her. The hand around Mar's wrists grip even tighter, sure to leave bruises.
Mar lets out a yelp before her throat gurgles and chokes on her spit. She tries to take in air through small wheezes, yet nothing works. Her air is leaving her slowly, leaving her lightheaded and with her face turning red.
The pressure of the hand around her throat activates Mar's brain again, her arms and legs thrashing wildly. She manages to release the death-like grip that Nico Robin had on her with brute force by twisting her body, her left hand latching around the other woman's shoulder.
Robin's eyes widen in surprise, a crazed look suddenly flashing across her face. She then crosses her arms and lifts her palms so that they face the sky. A hurried, "Dieciseis Fleurs!" comes out of her mouth in a rapid stream, recognizing that she would be in danger if she allowed Mar to hit her. Mar's bounty and moniker was enough of a hint.
Just as Mar gears up to push her with the metallic fingers of her right hand, a flurry of arms sprout from around her body, managing to hold her in place. A swarm of arms also rose from the ground, holding Mar's own arms down so that she was unable to move them again. Two of the enemy arms, sprouting from Mar’s chest, enveloped her neck and started applying pressure again to choke her.
Of course, a devil fruit. How could Mar have let down her guard so much? She knew that Robin must have had some sort of ability to take out all of those marine ships (yet, how could this ability take out all of those ships?). Now, all Mar could do was let out little choking noises, her fingers twitching uselessly at the sides of her body.
Mar did not want to think about how smooth those hands were, how they seemed to sprout like flowers and held a certain… frailty to them that hid their violent nature.
They were beautiful.
Yet, they were the things that tried to take the life from her, that pulled at her consciousness. If she passed out, she did not know when she would wake up again.
Maybe.
Maybe it was time to use her strength.
It is horribly hypocritical and stupid of her to continue like this, after all of those years on the run, to let herself fall like this and to let her strength be contained like it was before. It is time to act, not for herself but for her precious person. Mar needs to see that smile again, to make sure that she is safe. She needs to actually rescue her this time.
Mar closes her eyes.
Imagines the darkness within her taking form, becoming solid on the skin of her hands. Thinks of impenetrable shields and armor that keeps others out, of strength that is held at a concentration over her skin. After a moment, gleams of light reflect off of the metallic looking skin of her left arm, a manifestation of her wish. A wish created from fear and longing to see her precious person.
Her sister.
Nami.
Mar’s hands stop shaking. Her eyes open suddenly, her face twisting into a determined frown. Liquid lava flows through her veins, giving her the strength to forcefully snatch her left arm away from the grasp several hands had on it.
Instead of giving Robin the time to react, she quickly takes hold of the fingers of one of the hands that had been holding her down and just…
bends.
Several cracks resound throughout the alley, rising above the sound of Mar’s small gasps of air.
A scream full of agony escapes from Robin’s lips before she covers her mouth with one of her hands to muffle it, her knees failing from the pain and causing her to fall. All of the hands that had held Mar down disappear, leaving flower petals in their wake.
On Robin’s thighs lays her left hand, three of the fingers facing unnatural directions. They were turning a dark grey and kept on shaking from the pain. Mar swore she saw bone sticking out of one of them.
Instead of the cool expression that Mar had first seen on Robin’s face mere minutes ago, her eyes were now scrunched tightly in pain and her chest rose heavily with each of her breaths. Her cowgirl hat had fallen off of her head and laid next to her. Her hair was strangely still in place, none of the hairs hiding her face from view. None able to hide what Mar had done.
She had broken three of Robin’s fingers.
Without even trying. It was just like breaking a stick into two pieces.
She had done it again. Used her strength against another.
Unfocused eyes stare at her from across the expanse of dead bodies she had left in her wake. Some of them had been twisted like pretzels while others had limbs missing.
“You enjoy our pain.”
“You are neither a human or a ____.”
“You are a creature with nothing to call home, with nobody to love or that loves you.”
Mar turns around and runs out the alley now full of flower petals, trying not to think about the scream that would haunt her nightmares.
Nobody follows her.
*****
Marcelline had not seen Robin the rest of that day. Or for the days that followed.
As the timid glow of the moon turned into a vast expanse of crisp and clear hues from the sunrise and the sunrise turned into inky blackness that swallowed the sky whole, she tried not to think about the encounter. Instead, she attempts to focus all of her energy on finding her precious person and on training Omar in the arts of thievery. She avoids thinking about how she hasn’t slept in several days.
Sometimes she heard the scream resound in her head when the world was silent.
When they meet again in the same bustling market, Mar whistles the customary tune of greeting from Anjani to the child and teaches him how to whistle when all that comes out of his mouth is a burst of soundless air. It felt unthinkable to her that a person would be unable to whistle, even if they are Omar's age. He eventually manages to whistle a low note but cannot replicate the simple greeting she had given him. Mar decides to forgive the rudeness that his inability to whistle back implies and throws herself fully into teaching him.
Thankfully, Omar learned quickly and already had most of the basics down. He mostly needed a mentor to teach him new tricks and a way to make his movements seamless and quieter.
Most of the time that they spent together went towards exploring Nanohana. Well, Mar explored. Omar fought for his life as she stole his pouch from him (again and again) and asked people whether they had seen the person in the wanted poster Mar had in hand.
“Why are you trying to find him? That guy with the straw hat?” Omar had asked at one point.
“To kill the fucker and take back what he stole.” A clawed hand crushed the wanted person poster while the other hand crushed a rock that Mar had grabbed to toss around.
Omar gulped. He didn’t ask for more details after that.
Other than that blip, Omar proved to be a great guide, taking Mar to different nooks and crannies that were not typically explored by outsiders. Although outwardly reluctant to be forced into the role of a tour guide, the child preened under words of encouragement and wonder from Mar.
“Wow lil’ demon! I’m impressed by how much you know about this place! I thought you were a teeny little ant, not a somewhat older- yet little- shrimp.”
“Sh-SHUSH! That's not a compliment…” He paused to think about whether or not he should cuss Mar out. “Weirdo!”
They continued on, Mar finding every opportunity to embarrass Omar as he guided her around town for three days. One day, she purposefully knocked over a rack full of shoes as he was trying to steal a pair, causing them to have to run all over the place to lose their pursuers.
“WHY DID YOU DO THAT!!” Omar screamed, his little legs doing their best to carry him while several people chased them.
“You needed a lesson on stamina!” Mar laughed out, her legs easily leading her through narrow passages without tiring.
All Omar could do was groan. At one point, Mar thought enough was enough and grabbed him by the scruff of his neck, cackling as he groaned in appreciation while she ran the rest of the way.
On the second day, an incident which shall not be named happened, which led to Omar having flour all over him. Enraged, he had taken some of the flour from the bag he had (somewhat successfully, but not really) stolen and thrown some of it at Mar. Curious about how it would feel, Mar ran slowly and let the flour land on her. She found out she didn’t like the feeling much at all and stole the bag from Omar to throw some at him. This turned into a fight in the middle of another market that they knew they couldn’t return to.
Needless to say, they both found that they had to clean off an obscene amount of sand and flour off of their clothes at the end of the day. Mar weirdly had some behind her ear, which made her wonder how exactly the little demon managed such a feat. Omar himself was full of vitriol.
(Stupid weirdo)
(What did you say?)
Gulp. (Nothing)
On the third day, he suddenly stopped mid-lecture, his previous scowl (he needed to show how grown up he was) turning into a wide smile.
“We are here!” Omar starts shaking from the excitement. “This-” he swivels his body around, doing his best to show the grandness of what he is showing to Mar. “-is a mural that my mom created a few years ago!”
They had arrived to the side of a nondescript building, one that almost seemed abandoned if not for the casual flow of people that entered and exited as Mar and Omar came to a stop in front of one of its walls.
In front of them stood a peeling mural that depicted rain falling upon a desert, the water joining together to create a river that flowed to a small town at the bottom right corner of the wall. Although rain was associated with cloudy days full of shade and darkness, the sun could be seen peeking through clouds in the sky, providing a source of light to the otherwise gloomy hues of the art.
Some parts of the mural had been painted over, mostly covering the clouds overflowing with rain. Other parts of the mural had been scratched out by a sharp object. Some of the scrawlings on the wall were words that Mar couldn’t understand.
She couldn’t help but feel that these intentional acts of sabotage were done in a fit of anger and desperation. Although this art was meant to instill hope in others, it could also bring disgust and hate at the flip of a coin. Fortunately, Omar seemed to not care about the scratches on the wall, instead focusing on the rain droplets that seemed to almost come out of the wall.
“This is beautiful, lil’ demon. Has your mom created any more?” She turns to look at Omar, only to see how his gaze flickered between the droplets of rain and the plentiful water in the river of the mural.
“Lil’ demon?”
“Ah!” Omar turns sheepishly back to Mar, unwilling to look her in the eye. “This is the last piece of art that she created before she got… sick. It turns out that spending too much time in the sun without drinking water can do a lot more than dehydrate you.”
“Oh Omar…” Mar crouches down and ruffles his hair, giving him and herself enough space to run from the touch. Omar stood completely still, unsure about the contact but not willing to move away. It reminded him of when they met a few days ago, when she had patted his hair with nothing other than care and comfort for him. How long had it been since anyone had treated him with such kindness? With such care for his feelings? He couldn’t remember at all.
Maybe things would look up for him now that he had someone reliable teaching him. He could now provide for his mom a lot more than before now that Mar appeared in his life. He didn’t want to think about the day that she would leave. Omar knew it was coming, but maybe not thinking about it would make it fade from existence.
A small smile spread on his face, surprising Mar into stopping her ministrations. Did something break in him? Maybe he was showing his discomfort from her touch?
“Thank you Mar. For all that you have done. I know you didn’t have to do anything for me, especially after I tried to rob you.” Omar shyly glances up before turning his gaze back down again. “I don’t know if this makes sense, but I feel as if I have a big sister now.”
Mar feels her face grow into a wide grin, her happiness threatening to spill over the surface. Rays of light almost seemed to escape from the confines of her body. How long had it been since she had heard someone call her big sister? Nami… It hurt to think about, but it had been several years.
Without thinking, Mar gently pulls on his coat and then holds out her arms, inviting Omar to hug her if he wanted. It didn’t take long for him to take her up on her offer, his head colliding against her chest and arms clinging on the fabric that lay loosely on her back. He had known for a while how much she detested touch, how beads of sweat rolled down her temple if people got too close to her. He himself did his best to not touch her. Yet, he always yearned for that gentle pat she gave him back when they first met, when he had been so cruel to her. When did this need to touch her for comfort begin? He will never know.
Mar herself began to shake from the feeling of voluntarily hugging someone again, of letting their skin touch hers. Little things enter her mind, swirling and mingling with her own thoughts. The small warmth of a candle, keeping darkness at bay. Comfort. A blanket to hide oneself in. Security. The intense yearning for something that remained out of reach. Longing. Omar had needed a hug for a long time. A hug his sick mother could not truly give. Mar knew that she would need to leave soon, whether to find Nami if she never came or to find a place for her and Nami to go if she did arrive. She couldn’t stay, especially with people like Nico Robin around. For now, she would do her best as an older sister for Omar.
“I think I've thought of you as a little brother since the moment we met, Omar.” She felt his mouth form a small smile from where his face was burrowed in her chest. He only hugged her tighter.
After a few moments, they slowly let go of each other and stare silently at the mural again, both deep in thought about how they now had a sibling (another sibling in the case of Mar). As Omar stared at the mural, he had a small thought.
One.
Small.
Thought.
A thought that grew innocently in his mind, like a weed trying to grow past the dirt holding it back. It grew and flourished, until it turned into a full fleshed idea.
...
He should get a present for Mar! Maybe something related to flowers? Almost every article of clothing that Mar owned had a flower on it. Now that he thought about it, when she took off the hood of her garment...
“You know what, weirdo, stay here! I need to… ummm… get something! From the store right there!” He points at the store that the mural was painted on, where the work of his mother quietly stood in space.
Mar found herself laughing as he vibrated in place, his small hands unable to stop their up and down motion in excitement. “Alright, but don’t take too long. We still have a lot to explore.”
Nodding quickly, Omar zooms to the store, opening the door with such force that it made a sharp clang against the wall. A yell could be heard from inside but it sounded like the person was not really angry.
As Mar stood in front of the mural, waiting for Omar, she had A Small Thought too.
Omar is the polar opposite of Estha, yet they hugged her as much force as they could with their little twiggy arms.
She silenced that Small Thought immediately.
Seconds turned into a minute. A minute turned into two. Then five. Mar waited and waited, doing her best to be patient (something she was not that good at, to be honest). When the ten minute mark rolled around, a little quiver of static ran across her flesh, leaving goosebumps in their wake.
Did something happen to Omar? He had been in the store for too long. What if he tried to steal something and was caught, causing the owners to personally punish him? A cold hand gripped at her heart, one that didn’t allow her heart to beat correctly. Her heart did its best to remain calm, but the grip of the cold hand constricted it, forcing it to work overtime.
She needs to enter that store. Beat some ass if something was wrong.
As Mar takes a step towards the store, the sheet of metal that was the door opens, clanging against the wall again. In the doorway stood Omar, his hands behind his back. He seemed to be hiding something from her.
As his little steps walk towards her, she releases a sigh of relief. Her overprotective instincts as an older sister were kicking in again. She grins at the thought, excited for what else they would do that day. Maybe she should treat him to another meal again? Stolen, of course. “Omar, you little demon, what took you so long?!”
Mar didn’t notice how he was not smiling. In fact, his lips were drawn into a small grimace that quivered as he grew closer to Mar. His eyes were turned down to the ground, unable to look her in the eyes. Although she didn’t focus on his expression, she did notice the child’s quietness.
“Omar?” She crouches down and lays her hands on his shoulders, making sure that her full attention was on him. “What’s wrong? Did something happen?”
Omar raises his head from its need to look at the floor, forcing a smile on his face. Little cracks on his porcelain face seemed to appear, growing wider every second. Mar finally notices his strange expressions but decides not to comment on it, waiting for him to tell her what he wanted.
“Nothing’s wrong weirdo, nothing happened.” A beat passes before he continues in a shaky voice that drifts like whispers in the wind. “I actually got you a present.”
“A present!” Mar beams. Omar had gotten used to her smiles by now, no longer feeling as if she was about to eat him. Maybe she should have by now. For what he is about to do. “You didn’t have to! Now I feel like I need to get you something-”
“No, it's fine!” He rushes out, his voice rising in pitch and interrupting Mar. “I need to give you mine first.”
Need? Mar thought. That's such a strange word to use. “Okay, what is it? Can I eat it? Wear it?”
Omar jolts a bit at her last inquiry, his gaze falling to the ground. “It’s…” eyes rose up again, finally seeming to have the courage to look at her. “-a secret. I need you to close your eyes and hold out your hands.”
Amusement tinged the edges of Mar’s smile (not anxiety, no, this is her little brother, she loves and trusts him like any older sibling should) as she closes her eyes. “That's fine then, tell me when to open them.”
A few seconds pass before Omar starts walking forwards. Mar curiously counts his steps, noticing how they become smaller and smaller the closer he gets to her. Remembering that he asked her to hold out her hands, Mar brings her arms up, hearing how one of her mechanical fingers squeak in protest as she holds them up. Oh, I should probably oil that soon.
It doesn’t take long for Omar to stop, the heat of his small body close enough to sense. A hesitant hand reaches out, touching the edge of her hand. Mar allows it, feeling a strange sense of sadness overwhelm her from the feeling of his hands. And guilt?
His hand faintly traces over the small nicks she has on her own, eventually curious about her two mechanical fingers. He had always been wondering about them but feared asking about it in case it made her mad enough to hurt him. Now he knew it was silly to think she would hurt him.
It’s more like he would hurt her instead.
“What happened to your fingers?” He croaks out, still not really wanting to look at her face.
A laugh escapes from her mouth, happy and free. “You see, I have another brother who got so hungry, he ate them clean off and swallowed them whole.”
“Are you lying to me?” You are the liar, he tells himself.
“Maybe. Maybe not.”
Omar stops touching her hand. His hands grip the object in his hold. It was time. He needed to do it.
For his mom .
“I’m sorry Mar.”
“Wha-” A small clink is all she hears before it's done. Before she feels the life leaving her body.
Her eyes open and widen, staring in horror at the object encircling her wrist. Its inconspicuous, almost innocent appearance contrasts with the feeling of death pervading her senses. The object feels cool to the touch, but Mar knows better than to think that it was made of metal.
Seastone cuffs.
Her neck sears in memory, her face wincing at the phantom pain. Mar hates seastone with a passion, one that could twist and break the people around her. Yet, the only person around her was her little brother, Omar. I need to protect my siblings.
Strong legs don’t give any warning before they bend on her, causing her to fall to the ground. Fortunately, the sand absorbs the impact of her fall. Oh, cuffs made entirely of seastone. Her eyelids flutter as they do their best to not close, to not fall into unconsciousness. She needs to get away, run, find Nami, protect her like she was supposed to do all these years.
She hears faint repetitions of the word sorry, a word that begins to envelop both her and Omar like a cloud. Was she the one saying it? It feels like she is. It feels like she should be. She wonders who it would be for.
Mar uses most of her energy to look up and see that Omar, her little brother, is crying. Even when crying, such a child still manages to look like an angel with snot dribbling down to their chin. Disgusting, but cute. She just met him but finds that she would still give her life for him. The child with an angelic face with a foul mouth. She tries to laugh but finds that her energy is being used to just keep her eyes open.
“Mar, Mar, I’m sorry! The Lady said she would bring a doctor to see my mom. And a lifetime support of water for the two of us if I put these on you. She never said they would hurt you! I thought they were normal handcuffs, so what's wrong-”
The Lady.
She does her best to open her mouth, to ask where the lady is-
“You did well, Omar.”
Mar imagines her eyes would have opened wide in horror if she had the energy to do so.
Blocking the sun with her cowgirl hat, Nico Robin stands tall, her coldness reaching out as a vice that tries to keep her heart from beating at all. Her smile doesn't reach her eyes as she stares at the still figure of Mar on the floor.
“It wasn’t very nice, what you did to me several days ago. You know, that actually hurt me, not just physically. I thought we had something going for us, Herculean Monster Marcelline.”
Trying her best to glare at the woman in front of her, Mar just ends up blinking a bit more rapidly. The woman continues.
“Based on your actions, I have to assume that you are here to do something… dangerous to the organization.”
Organization, what organization? Why would Nico Robin assume she cared about her organization at all?
“It looks like I will have to bring you in after all. Of course, not without a bit of justice for myself.” Instead of saying this with a tone of glee, Nico Robin just said it as if she was stating the news, without any emotions.
Ah. Mar would get hurt again. And again. When would her pain end? It was already painful enough to ignore the betrayal by her brother. It was painful to think about Nami. About Estha. About her other siblings. All of them are waiting for her. Maybe. Who knows?
As Mar closes her eyes in thought, she feels something smack into her. Something that weighed almost nothing at all.
Opening her eyes revealed that Omar had spread his body over her, doing his best to cover her from Nico Robin. “No! You can’t take her! Or hurt her! You never said you would do any of this! I don’t want your doctor or water anymore, so leave Mar alone!” Even as tears fell down his face, leaving clean tracks on his dirt-ridden face, his voice managed to convey a bit of strength. He was going to do his all to protect her.
Nobody caught the conflicted look that crossed Nico Robin’s face. The small tremor of horror that had coursed within her mind and wreaked havoc on her body. She never hurt children. She never liked hurting people in general, if she could help it. Her instincts warned her against it, her moral compass too strong. Yet, she needed to bring Mar in.
Nico Robin crosses her arms, a sign that Mar recognized well. “NO!” She manages to scream, lifting up her body a few inches before it falls pathetically on the floor again. She needs to get up, break her arm to get some adrenaline going, somehow break these cuffs, anything-
Hands sprout from the floor again, reaching out to grab Omar. He screams in terror, unused to the power of devil fruits and scared of the phenomenon. “Mar!” He cries as he holds tightly onto Mar, subconsciously hoping that she would protect him even if he was the one that did this to her. What was going on?!
When the hands reach out and grab Omar, they don’t do it with bruising force. Instead, many of them simply tug him lightly and manage to pull him away without much fuss because of how little he weighs. The hands even set him down a few yards away, making sure to hold him in place without hurting him. The scared look in his face ebbs into a confused one, then wonder. How did that lady manage to do this? Were these all her hands?
As Omar sat thinking about the weirdness of the situation, Nico Robin summoned two more arms that appeared on Mar’s shoulders. The hands that were summoned this time were not meant to hold anybody down. The seastone cuffs did the job themselves. Instead, they were summoned to hurt.
“It looks like it's my time to do what you did to me. An eye for an eye, right Marcelline?”
A groan escaped from within Mar, a deep sound that resonates within her body. A sound of something that could barely breathe, unable to keep their lungs functioning. “N-not… in fro-front… of Omar.”
Omar starts yelling again at the sound of Mar’s voice, incensed by her sudden display of weakness. “No, don’t you dare, bitch lady! Don’t touch her!” A longer sob left his quivering mouth, his eyes squeezing shut from the horror. “Please, just leave her alone…”
“I’m sorry child, I simply cannot do that.” To Nico Robin’s credit, she truly did sound sorrowful. She had wavered a bit at the end of her statement. “I need to take Marcelline, she is too… notorious for her to be allowed to wander.”
She lifted her arm so that Omar could see the hand with bandages and splinters keeping three of the fingers straight. “She also did this to me. Do you think that's fair, child?”
“I don’t care, asshole! She probably did it for a good reason, so let her go! Scum, idiot, stupid, sister of cows…” Omar continued, his list of expletives growing grander and more creative each second.
“O-Omar, st-stop.”
He instantly stops speaking, his head hurting from the horror of it all. He needed her to know he didn’t mean it. That he wasn’t lying when he said he thought of her as a sister. He wanted her love again, the pats to his head, the hugs that she had barely started to hand out to him.
“M-Mar, please, I’m so sorry, please, I’m sorry-”
“N-no…” Mar could barely continue, she felt so tired. “Forgiveness.” Aw, man. The most important words got left out. If possible, Omar started crying even harder, his sobs causing his whole body to shake like a leaf.
No wait, Mar wants to say. That's not what that meant. Her tongue feels too heavy, her jaw slack and keeping her mouth slightly open. She doesn’t want to leave Omar with such a terrible misunderstanding.
Nico Robin, already thinking of herself as the ultimate villain, sighs at the display before her. She hates it. She hates herself for this. Making up her mind, she crosses her arms across her body, yelling what sounds like gibberish to Mar and summoning more hands that created what looked like a dome around Omar. A dome that kept him from seeing or hearing what she was about to do next.
The woman with a cowgirl hat lowered it to hide her tired eyes before saying, “Lights out Marcelline.”
Before one of the hands held her head still and the other chopped her behind the neck to knock her out, Mar had several thoughts as she stared up at the sky, doing her best to not listen to the subdued cries from within the (creepy) dome of flesh.
She watched as the clouds blurred in and out of view. Oh look, one of them looks like a dog. Mar heard that witch of a woman speak once more but she didn’t make anything out.
Mar knew she should be freaking out about passing out soon. She had not slept in days to keep herself from being unable to wake up when she wanted. Now, she was forcefully being thrown into the world of nightmares that inhabited her mind.
I swear that if I do not wake up at a reasonable time, I will fucking steal that cowboy hat that that witch has on after breaking her arm into three pieces. I will break her entirely if she even tries to hurt Omar.
Mar's eyes roll to the back of her head and she sees stars flicker as the hand hits her neck. She imagines the melancholic smile of a girl wanting to be free in the darkness of her mind, then the small smile that Estha gave her before she doomed him to a fate worse than death.
She then passes out.
