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empressofmankind · 4 months

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BEGGARS SHAN'T BE CHOOSERS - Part I

[Crocodile x F!OC]

SFW

(A/N) Better known as the 'Impel Down' fic, I kept mentioning the past two weeks. This is Part One. Of five? Of ten? I've given up. The total draft was > 12k. So, I split it in 3x 4k. And then, I noticed today the 'first part' had grown to >7k. So, I've split it again. I have a clear end in mind, but how long it'll take me to get there...

Originally, this fic was meant to focus around Buggy, but then a 2.53m unit of absolute bullshit got in the way. Shivs and her world class plans, good gods. Post-Alabaste, the mens are stuck in Impel Down. Shivs is dead set on springing the clown from prison. However, she'll first need to figure out where they're keeping him. On account of his devil fruit powers, she suspects level 6. And she has an excellent alibi to demand visitation to level 6. For once, the legal quagmire of technically still being married to Crocodile is going to work for her. Right? RIGHT??

In this first part, we'll join Shivs and Benji (and Mani!) as they get ready to, and make their way for, Impel Down. That's it, that's all that happens, and it took me near 4k. I am so long-winded. It's a terminal condition, I know.

Tag(s): Considering this is the entré, there isn't actually much to tag for? There's fluff and humour. There's a 10-year-old running around saying the absolute funniest shit as things go straight over her head. We got Mani the scaly golden retriever Bananawani along? Oh, and one (1) good marine.

🐊 🐊 🐊

Beggars Shan't Be Choosers - Part I

“They're stupid clothes,” Benji said, her brow wrinkling with petulant annoyance. She was wearing a crispy white dress shirt, a green-on-ochre striped vest and grey slacks. She'd refused a dress of any sort. Her flame orange hair was neatly brushed and her small face wasn't covered in grease paint for once.

“I think you look handsome,” Shivs said as she pinned her own red hair up with a two-pronged kanzashi fashioned with golden lotuses whose inlaid blue diamonds had not seen the light of day in years.

“I look stupid.”

“Look. I am not comfortable in my clothes either,” Shivs said and indicated the mid-thigh sheath dress of black lace on dark grey broadcloth she wore. She'd decided on sheer stockings to go with it, but no gloves.

“You look pretty in them.”

Shivs turned back to the mirror to finish pinning her hair and adjusting her bangs to fall neatly from under the strings of her eyepatch. “That is the idea, yes.”

Benji put her hands in her pockets, kicking her foot, making squeaky noises against the deck boards. “What am I supposed to look like? I don't want to be pretty.”

“You are supposed to look like the most capable and well-behaved child to ever grace the Blue.” Shivs pinched her cheek, gilt bangles jangling. “And you do when you don't stand with your hands wearing out your pockets like that.”

Benji took her hands out of her pockets. They idled a moment, undecided, but then she clasped them behind her back. “Your neck looks naked.”

Shivs laughed at that because the bateau neckline of the dress could certainly use something. “Yours too.”

She plucked one of Buggy's patterned neck scarves from a drawer and tied it around her daughter's neck, tucking the ends into the vest. “There.”

“You should wear a pretty necklace,” Benji said, though her eyes were on the scarf. She seemed to like that, at least.

Shivs didn't have all that many necklaces conventionally considered ‘nice’. Going through the few she had in her thoughts, she picked up her modest jewellery box. Then paused as her gaze lingered on the bottom drawer of her vanity. Maybe she should… She pulled the drawer open and reached among clothes she rarely wore, patting around until she found the old music box.

Its silver had blackened with age and negligence, but even so, its delicate engravings of waves and tall ships were fine. If she polished it now, the oxidation remaining in the fine creases would help pick out its details better than ever before. She didn’t, of course. And she didn’t open the lid either. She couldn’t remember if it was wound up, and didn’t want to hear its melody if it was.

Instead, she held it with both hands and turned its engraved body as if removing a lid from a jar. With a click, the top section came off. Within the tiny compartment revealed lay a small, gold hoop with a bent hinge. She’d long since let the earlobe puncture it used to occupy close. Taking a thin string from her jewellery box, she suspended it from that instead.

“Like so?” Shivs asked, drawing Benji’s attention as she fastened it around her neck.

“Don’t you have anything sparklier, like your hair thing?”

Shivs brushed the kanzashi. Though the era of having such things aplenty was long behind her, she was loath to detract from the last one that remained to her with lesser gems. Besides, he’d notice.

“Sadly, no.”

“Oh?” Benji gave her the thumbs up. “Gold is pretty too, I guess!”

Part of the reason she’d picked it was that it was 24-carat gold. Just like the kanzashi.

“Can I do your makeup?”

“Only if you do not turn me into a clown,” Shivs said as she sat down at her vanity so the girl could reach her face. Benji grinned and set to work.

When Benji declared she was done, Shivs turned to the mirror and had to admit the little girl was now officially better at this than her. She’d gone for a dark burgundy smokey eye with a flawlessly thin line of gold right at the root of her eyelashes and a touch of white on the waterline. It made the hazel of her good eye pop like nobody’s business. She was pretty sure the dark red lipstick was Buggy’s favourite to use himself.

“I like it,” Shivs said and Benji beamed. “Now, I just need shoes.”

“I'll fetch some!”

Benji was up and running out of the cabin before Shivs could protest. It was only a few minutes before the girl returned, clutching shoes in her arms. And not just any shoes, either. She held up gold-tinted, faux leather gladiator sandals with six-inch stiletto heels that would be a trick and a half to walk on. Where had she even found those?

“These will look awesome with your hair thing and necklace!”

She didn’t disagree as she put them on, but hoped the floors of Impel Down would be neatly packed concrete and nothing else. She hadn’t walked on heels like these in half a decade. Throwing a long bridge coat the rosy beige of dunes about her shoulders, she turned to the floor-length mirror.

Benji looked her up and down with the pinched expression of a critical, pint-sized costume designer grading their latest creation. “You look very pretty.”

Benji wasn’t wrong. She did look nice. Her mood sank, settling like an anchor in the pit of her stomach. She looked like his wife.

“Why is it OK to lie today?”

“It's not a lie.” Shivs shook the morose feeling and picked up her small black bag, its gilded chain rattling as she double checked its content. “More like, hm.”

“Make believe?”

“Yes. Yes, I suppose it is,” Shivs said as she snapped the bag closed and hung it from her shoulder. “It will be easier to convince them to let us visit if we look the way they’d expect.”

“Why would they let us visit uncle Crocodile? Aren’t those visits for, like, if you’re his mom or sister or baby or something?” Benji’s small face was filled with healthy scepticism, hands in her pockets once again. “We should pretend he’s my dad.”

Shivs flinched and struggled to keep her smile from faltering. “Well, only if we have to.”

“They’d have to be pretty bad people to stop a kid from visiting their father.” Benji took her hand. “I hope uncle Crocodile knows where dad is.”

“I am sure he knows.” Shivs gave Benji’s hand a squeeze. She’d no idea how she’d find out where Buggy was if Crocodile didn’t know. She couldn’t exactly demand that information on legal grounds like she had done with him. “Is Mani ready, too?”

“Yes! I scrubbed her squeaky clean and even picked her teeth and scales. She’s eaten and done a big poop.” Shivs tried to let the girl’s bubbly chatter lift her spirits. “I borrowed one of Richie’s sparkly collars and she looks flashy in it!”

“Sparkly? That sounds amazing.”

“It is! She likes sparkly things.”

“Let’s fetch her then and go before we are too late.”

Benji glanced up at her as they left the cabin. “How can we be late for an appointment we didn’t make?”

“We can be late for the only ship going there today.”

🐊 🐊 🐊

Benji had wanted to stand upon the prow as the government ship approached the Gate of Justice out of Enbies Lobby, because the skipper had said the Tarai current that would see them to Impel Down was chock full of sea kings. Shivs sat on a deck chair with a glass of wine, watching the girl run back and forth with binoculars she’d weedled from a matelot. On account of the seastone laminated hull, she doubted they would see any. However, there was no need to dunk on her chipper mood.

They were not the only visitors, more had trickled aboard to form a modest but motley company on the deck. She’d caught snippets of conversations as they walked by: a mother visiting her son; a brother, his sister. And she had a good guess what some of them were whispering about as they stole glances her way. She’d neglected to list any details regarding who they’d be visiting, but, in hindsight, she supposed the pony-sized bananawani lounging beside her gave it away.

She’d tied Mani’s rhinestone-infested lilac leash to her chair leg, to discourage the reptile from wandering or - worse - deciding to take a swim. Not that she had any illusion as to its ability to pull the chair straight from under her if it wanted to go. But Mani was a creature of habit and minimal effort. A minor inconvenience such as this would be enough to keep her snoozing on the deck.

“Spotted any big ones?” Shivs said when Benji came towards her for a sip of lychee ramune.

“Not yet.” Benji plopped down beside Mani, putting her skinny arm around her scaly neck as she slurped lemonade. “Did you know bananawani hunt sea kings?”

“Really?”

Shivs remembered the way the casino halls would darken as they swam by, their shadows passing beyond the glass as they glided towards the feeding platform. The unwitting sea king never stood a chance.

“They are their only known predator and totally hunt them,” Benji babbled happily while enjoying her drink. Mani’s eyes were still closed, but she’d shifted to lean into the little girl’s petting. “Do you think sea king tastes good?”

The water would run red but only for a short while, only until the currents whisked it away. Theoretically, the creature could make it out for the Rainbase oasis connected to the Sandora river.

“I bet Mani would prefer sea king chow,” Shivs said.

“I don't think they sell that at the pet stores.” Benji pouted as she hugged Mani. “She won’t be able to have a sea king snack until she’s big enough to hunt them herself.”

Hopefully, that would take a while yet. Bananawani could grow to colossal sizes, dwarfing mid-class tall ships. Shivs had no idea what they were supposed to do with a fully grown one. Or how to afford feeding the beast if there was no prey for her to hunt on her own. Rain Dinners’ bananawani never hunted alone.

Benji emptied her bottle with a big, noisy slurp, waking Mani. “Maybe we should have brought something?”

“A deck would have been nice,” Shivs said as she watched them. “We could have played slapjack.”

“No, I mean, for uncle Crocodile?”

Shivs flinched.

“You always say that it is nice to bring something when you visit someone. Especially if you want something from them in turn?” Benji scrunched up her face, rubbing Mani’s thick scaly neck. “I have, like, half a bag of marshmallows, but I didn’t think to bring them.”

“I have something for him, don’t worry about it.”

🐊 🐊 🐊

Impel Down was a fortress as ugly as it was unimaginative. It spilled onto the rapidly approaching horizon as a grey stain overtaking the limitless freedom of the open sea. And as they drew near on the Tarai current, its squat towers and crenellated battlements came into ever sharper focus until they dominated their entire surroundings. Curiously, there were no cannon embrasures, machicolations or any such defences one might expect from a proper bastion.

A fleet of warships rested at anchor along the approach to the underwater prison. The modest passenger ship they were on was dwarfed by the marine dreadnoughts they passed as the current pulled them inexorably towards the prison’s colossal gatehouse.

Benji had returned to the prow for the approach, and Shivs joined her there.

“It’s so huge!” Benji stared wide-eyed at the thick walls as they sailed under the barbican and into the secured harbour proper beyond. Mani sat beside her, holding her own leash.

“The vast majority of the complex is actually underwater.” Shivs counted the cannons peeking down at them through the embrasures, out of habit more than anything. She wondered if they had a standing firing crew to man them.

“Are we going underwater?” Benji hopped from one leg unto the other. “The Calm Belts are supposed to be full of Sea Kings! Maybe there will be a window, and I can see one? Maybe there will be wild Bananawani too!”

“It is a prison, so I don’t think there will be windows,” Shivs said in an attempt to calm the girl’s excitement and avoid utter disappointment if that turned out to be true. “It does reach quite a ways below the water surface. A few kilometres, perhaps? Yes, I think so.”

“Wow.” Turning to Mani, Benji added: “Let's find a window, I bet there will be wild Bananawani! You can say ‘hi’!”

Shivs took her by the shoulder when she saw the other visitors disembark. “Come, let’s not be late.”

Benji glanced up at her as they walked to the gangplank. “For the visit we didn-?”

“Don’t say that,” Shivs interrupted her with a quelling look.

“Right.” Benji smiled again and took Mani’s leash. “Come on Mani. Can’t be late!”

They were funnelled through the gatehouse and into a courtyard patrolled by marine sentries. Here, too, cannons peered through embrasures on all sides. Evidently, the prison was more concerned about threats to its security rising from within than without.

“Visitors for level 1 and 2 inmates, that way,” a young marine officer said as he gestured to a colleague. “Level 3 and up, with me.” The few people that joined them as they went to the marine officer gave the juvenile Bananawani plodding beside them a wide breadth.

The officer led them up steps and into an wholly uninviting lobby. With its worn plaster walls and dirty grey linoleum floor it did its very best to make you want to leave as soon as possible. No seats, no plants, no windows, no nothing.

“Registration check.” The marine officer motioned them towards the looming concrete counter on the other side of the unpleasant space. “In an orderly manner, gentlefolk.”

Benji put her arm around Mani, leaning into the large reptile and putting her nose against its scales as she eyed their casually hostile surroundings.

“What’s his name?” The marine officer’s tone was amiable, conversational.

“Hers!” Benji said, holding on tighter to the Bananawani.

He tried to catch her gaze with a smile. “Big girls, both of you.”

“Her name is Mani.”

“Ah, ‘she who averts harm’,” he said, and Shivs appreciated his attempts to make Benji feel comfortable. “A wise choice for such a hardy animal.”

“She’s very sweet and tough,” Benji agreed as she snuggled Mani. “I love her.”

“I am sure she loves you very much too.”

“What is your name?” Benji asked. “Mine is Benji!”

“Nice to meet you, Benji,” the young marine said. “Mine is Toby.”

By then it was their turn, and Shivs approached the desk. It was higher than such things normally were, for she was not a particularly short woman and yet she need not bend down to meet the registrar’s gaze.

“State your name and purpose?” the woman said, hands poised to take down the information.

“Figarland Seonaid. Conjugal visit,” Then added when she saw her transcribe it as ‘Sheona’: “That is without the H, and spelled with N-A-I-D.”

The registrar gave a sign of neither interest nor recognition. “Visiting?”

“Crocodile Niall.”

The woman paused when she heard that name. And Shivs ignored the whispers she could not quite catch from those behind her in line.

“Niall. N-I-A-L-L. Not ‘Nile’.”

The registrar flipped through a thick binder, finger running down a table packed with dense handwriting. “No visitation registered.”

“Preposterous,” Shivs said, overacting an affronted tone. “A signed request for visitation has been approved weeks ago.”

“There is no record of it, ma'am.”

Benji let go of Mani to fling her arms around Shivs’ waist instead, and gave the registrar and marine officer her most watery of wobbly baby looks. “Mommy, I want to see daddy!”

Shivs rubbed her shoulder, giving the registrar the pleading look of parents the world across trying to desperately manage a child on the brink of wailing. Benji's little sob into the fabric of her dress was very convincing. Mani paced around them, uncertain but riled by the sudden change of mood.

“Can't you put in an expedited request?” Shivs suggested, trying her damndest to sound sincere. “She'd been looking forward to it, and we get so few chances.”

“No registration, no visitation,” the woman said as Benji took in a breath to start a wail.

Toby shook his head. “Let me see what I can do,” he said as he produced a small, earpiece Den Den Mushi and put the sea snail against his ear. A few transmissions later, he turned to the registrar and held up his hand. “Two visitor badges, please.”

With due reluctance the registrar handed them over to him and he turned to Benji. “There you go, kiddo,” he said as he gave her one, and then Shivs as well. “Courtesy of the vice-admiral making the curator see reason.”

“You're the best!” Benji beamed. “Look, mom, I am number 17! What is yours?”

Shivs looked at the scuffed 13 on the badge. It reminded her of a poker table she used to deal at, and the memory settled in the pit of her stomach like a fetch of cannon balls. “Not as high as yours, sweetie.”

“Come, I will see you two down to the right level,” Toby said, and led them to the elevator room beyond the lobby. There were four, two on the left and two on the right. He took them to the far right one, the doors opening as they approached.

“Awesome!” Benji said as she rushed inside, Mani hot on her heels. For the elevator was made entirely of armoured glass and provided a grand view of the ocean sprawling all the way across the horizon. The afternoon sun kissed the waves, setting sparkles to the white-capped water. And Shivs felt it beckon in her bones.

Benji gave him a hopeful look. “Are we going underwater?”

“We are,” Toby said as he put a key in the control panel and turned it.

When the doors slid closed, Shivs suppressed the sudden and overwhelming urge to get out, to leave and never look back. To stay at the surface, where they belonged. I have to, she told herself as she clenched her hands into fists around the chain of her handbag. Bugs is down there, and he hates the dark beneath the waves.

The elevator jolted to life and Shivs closed her eyes, ignoring the sound of the lapping waves against the glass as they submerged, focussing on Benji’s excited noises instead. When she opened them again, they were enveloped in blue. Sunlight still penetrated, sending curtains of light through the water. Less so with every foot they descended, as the blue grew deeper, darker.

“A Sea King!” Benji screamed, spooking Mani as she glued herself against the glass. In the far distance, blurred in the shifting hues of the blue, swam a long, serpentine creature, its body undulating as it made its way from somewhere to elsewhere.

“It could be the Prince of the Deep,” Toby said as he came to stand beside her. “It has about the right shape. Colour too, perhaps.”

Benji glanced at him, her eyes large and eager. “Prince?”

“Yes, because he is a prince among his kind. The largest Sea King in this part of the Calm Belt,” Toby said. “Ten times larger than Coral Grove, our largest dreadnought.”

“Wow.” Benji pressed her face against the glass. “Mani could snack on that for years.”

“Wouldn’t it be tough for her to hunt such a large creature?” Toby said, not without humour.

Benji rolled her eyes. “Not right now, she’s a baby. But she’ll be big and strong one day! Bananawani hunt Sea Kings, did you know?” she said and babbled the poor marine’s ears off about the large reptiles for some minutes.

As the armoured glass elevator descended to deeper water, their surroundings became steadily darker. Shivs put her gaze on the glass floor and the pitch black abyss below. It was easier to face the darkness approaching than the light receding, the sparkle of the sun on the water surface dwindling as you sank. The sea has never been friendly to man.

Beside her, Benji had put her arm around Mani as she looked up. No more sea kings down here.

“The 6th level is also called ‘The Basement’,” Toby said, making the girl glance away from the ever more distant sunlight. “Do you know why?”

Ghosts in the attic and monsters in the basement, Shivs thought as she recalled the sailors’ idiom about grief with its haunting memories and stowed feelings.

Benji eyed him, holding on to Mani still. “Because it's dark and far down?”

Because nobody goes there if they can help it. Shivs stared at the watery dark beneath their feet. The sea floor might never come and she'd not be surprised.

“Nope!” Toby said, his smile bright in the dimming light. “Because it is where all the cool people stay.”

Benji’s mood lit up. “My unc- Dad, is super cool! He's actually made out of sand, like, for real.”

“Are you made out of sand?”

Shivs gaze snapped onto him like a hawk. He was looking at Benji, fondness soft on his youthful face. He couldn't be much older than 20 or 22.

“I don't think so?” Benji let go of Mani to brush at her clothes, then glanced at him. “Do you want to pet her?”

Toby smiled. “Absolutely.”

🐊 🐊 🐊

Horny hell seat reservations - @tiredemomama @smut-goblin @ruledbyproblematique @momodwriter @littlemountainwolf @fanaticsnail @feral-artistry - except there's no horny. Croc isn't even in it either. I feel like a cheat.

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