Soundless Imaginings | One-Shots

Raven's Wings | One Piece

Third Person POV

The young teen groans - low and overdue - as she rolls over, her arms spread on either side, legs tucked up beneath her. A staccato drumbeat threads through every vulnerable inch of her mind, muddling thoughts and adding insult to injury.

She feels like crap, put simply.

The hell happened...? She turns her head to spit out a mouthful of gritty, damp sand. Sand. A clue. O-k. She's on a beach. Good start. Gritting her teeth, she pries open unwilling eyes, only to furiously blink them against the harsh glare of the sun above. She'd enjoy the whimsical golden light if she weren't so used to the tranquil darkness of her subconscious at this point.

The girl tosses an arm over her eyes and further draws her legs up. Using the familiar stength in her lithe legs, she flips to her feet, arms spread for balance, head cocked to listen for approaching footsteps. Hearing nothing - and regaining her footing - she grins triumphantly to herself, thinking there's no one else to bear her fangs for.

A soft, muffled moan distracts her as she's dusting the sand from her clothing. What a day she chose to wear all black.

Her head whips around, pinpointing the source within seconds. Another Cheshire smile tugs at her grain-speckled lips.

"Kay! You made it!"

The raven-haired girl lying some feet away in the sun-washed sand answers only in another groan - this one clearly more to express her annoyance at the red-head's voice than her situation. "I must be cursed, to always end up in unbearable events with you, Demon."

This, of course, results in a tongue of crackling flames being hurled at her unprotected body. The ravenette reacts quickly, pushing an arm beneath her and managing to vault into a vertical position, her legs poised as though to run, the muscles in her fair arms bulging with the strain of holding her entire weight. The fireball sails harmlessly past, doing no more damage than singing a few strands of her pitch-black hair.

"Even when stranded on a desert island, you manage to throw childish temper tantrums," Kay chides as she twists herself upright, planting both boot-clad feet on the unstable sand. The girl across from her pouts, her nose in the air, both eyes closed to the Kay's impressive display.

"Don't give me that crap," she spits. "I'm childish? Hell, I'm not the one who's always picking at people's weak points! Kami! You know why I hate that freaking epithet. Ya don't have to tease me about it all the time."

"No," Kay agrees, curling her lips in a wry smile, "I suppose I don't. I just see you as a long-lived source of entertainment."

Slapping a hand over her twitching eye, the red-head twists on her heel, facing away from Kay. "Whatever. Just... gah! Whatever!" Clenching her hands into fists does little to staunch her growing anger. "You said something about a deserted island?"

Kay - otherwise known as Black-Heart Kay, simply Black-Heart, or Katana - rolls her eyes at the brutally obvious change in subject. "That's correct." She nods her head at the rolling ocean bordering their stretch of beach. "You don't recall being thrown overboard by the turbulent waters?"

The red-head laughs awkwardly. Her memory is more than a little foggy, at best.

Sighing, Kay folds her arms over her chest, dislodging the sand gathered there with minimal effort. "Expected, I suppose, of your character. In any case, I doubt the Straw Hats have any idea of our current location, unless that navigator of yours works miracles. However, you, right now, are very, very lucky I was the one cast into the water with you instead of your moronic captain. Had the situation been different at the time, the both of you would be dead right now."