– Ross –

You ever get that uneasy gut feeling? The one screaming at you that something was about to go horribly, horribly wrong? Well right now, that feeling was refusing to leave Ross be. It hadn't ever since Lafitte began talking and it had only grown the longer he kept twirling that stupid walking stick of his.

Thing was, one didn't survive the streets for long without having very good instincts or at least a very trusty gut. And if that trusty gut told you to jump, you didn't ask how high. You simply jumped. When one added observation haki into the mix, that gut feeling turned into a dependable premonition. Which was why Ross hadn't questioned his haki, when it told him to commit a grievous sin. One, that would have caused every combat instructor in the world to scream and rip their hair out in frustration.

He closed his eyes and looked away.

By all conventional wisdom, this was a monumentally stupid move to make. Suicidal even. Especially against an opponent who outclassed him drastically in every way, where missing the smallest bodily cue could mean the difference between life and death. But… well, he'd seen what happened when people ignored their haki and hence his paranoia had taken over. He'd even dragged Hewitt along with him, forcibly spinning the cook around a split second before Lafitte brought his cane down with a soft clack.

At first nothing seemed to have changed. Ross certainly hadn't felt any different. And when he'd heard the twin cracks of Laki's and Rivers' rifles, Ross had felt a great sense of relief. One that had calmed his roiling gut enough for the sailmaker to leap into motion, charging Lafitte who'd been knocked off-kilter by the initial barrage. Completely open. Vulnerable. And most importantly, within reach.

"Hewitt, let's go!"

"Already way ahead of you!"

If only their snipers could keep up the pressure for a little longer, the Blackbeard pirate was about to get dogpiled by their entire crew. Lafitte's eyes widened, his gaze fixed upon a haki-covered, jet dial propelled fist racing towards his face.

Then, he smirked.

Ross' head rang as a sea stone bullet smashed into him, barely having managed to interpose his hand between his head and certain death. As it was, the force still sent him tumbling head over heels into the far railing. Hewitt met a similar fate, his molten frying pans proof of their sacrifice, having bought him precious time to dive out of the way of Laki's plasma bolts.

"Where the hell are you aiming at, Rivers! Have you suddenly gone blind or something?" Ross roared at the airborne sniper. "You could have killed me!"

Rivers' response was to calmly reload his gun, before proceeding to aim and fire. Aim and fire. That was all he did, but he did it with unerring accuracy, leaving no room for Ross to do anything but hunker down and take it. Hewitt for his part seemed to be quickly working his way through his near inexhaustible supply of cooking implements.

Yet, the current predicament did leave enough breathing room for Ross to ascertain what sort of fucked up situation he'd found himself in. All around him, the deck had erupted into chaos as the Bellamy Pirates devolved into a civil war.

Nero was methodically working his way through Muret's defenses; with the only reason he hadn't succeeded yet being Funkreed's spirited resistance. Eddy, who would normally have rushed to assist, was barely managing to fend off the captain himself with Aisa's support. Meanwhile, Lily and Sarquiss were having the relationship fight of the century. If that didn't proof that something unnatural was going on, nothing would.

What was going on? Wait. Hadn't Lafitte mentioned something along the lines of hyp…

"Roughly half of you? I've got to say I'm thoroughly impressed. I was aiming to catch all of you, but I suppose this isn't bad. Not bad at all and it's certainly far more amusing to watch."

"What the fuck did you do, you fucker!" Lily yelled, before turning around to land a textbook uppercut into Sarquiss' jaw. "Stay down, dickhead!"

"Hypnosis is such an underrated ability, you know?" Lafitte replied. "Doesn't matter how strong they are or how strong willed. Actually, that just makes it all the easier, because the stronger they are, the less likely they are to miss my little circles. And the stronger their will, the less likely they are to question themselves or their instincts. All I have to do is…nudge them a little to see things from my point of view and their will do the rest of the work for me."

"Well, undo it now! Bring them back to normal or I'll fucking kill you!"

"I'd rather not fight a crew of Rear Admiral and Vice Admiral tier enemies all at once, thank you very much. That would be such a hassle, and I do have the Decalvan brothers to deal with as well. On that note…ta-ta!"

With one final wave, Lafitte sprouted white, feathery wings and sped away. Soon after, alarm bells started ringing frantically from their allied ship as the Decalvan Pirates did their best to keep him away. They predictably failed, resulting in rifle fire being replaced by the screams of wounded and dying men. Not that the Bellamy pirates had any shits left to give about the fate of their allies, because they had far more important matters to worry about. Such as reestablishing their demolished chain of command.

"Alright Shitheads! As the quartermaster and with both the captain and the first mate out of commission, I'm assuming command! Anybody gonna take issue with that?"

"No! But if you're going to take charge…oof…can you do it a bit more quickly?" Muret called out, hastily deflecting a shigan with a pair of scalpels. "Preferably sometime before Nero gifts me a new hole to breathe through!"

"Shut it! We're switching dance partners!" Lily declared, bodily pulling Muret to safety. "Aisa, keep Rivers and Laki busy! If I have to even glance at them for the rest of the day, I'm throwing every cookie overboard!"

"You're a big meanie!" Aisa accused, though she flew off to complete her mission regardless. Of course, this also meant that Eddy's situation worsened considerably very quickly.

"Lily… I don't want to rush you, but some assistance would be KINDA NICE RIGHT ABOUT NOW!"

"Mani, get the fuck out there and help Muret put Nero to sleep! I don't care how you do it, but I want him getting some shuteye before I'm done clapping some sense into my fiancé!"

"Are you sure that's a good matchup? You know I don't do well in a frontal engagement and he's a trained assassin."

"It's not fair and we're shorthanded! Suck it up!" Lily snapped before turning her smoldering gaze unto a frozen Ross and Hewitt. "What are you two waiting for? A written invitation?"

"Well…eh…"

"Go and help Eddy keep the captain busy before he turns us all into bloody paste!"

"There's no way we can handle the cap…" Ross began to protest, but Lily shut him down immediately and effectively.

"NOW!!!!"

"On it!"

----------------------------------------

– Eddy –

Ok. This was not a problem. They could handle this. They'd faced worse odds and survived before. Plus, they sparred all the time during training. Sure, Eddy usually got his arse handed to him on a regular basis, but he'd landed a few good hits of his own every so often. Once in a while. Intermittently. Occasionally. Sometimes. Sporadically.

OF COURSE THIS WAS A BLOODY PROBLEM!!!

Eddy was confident that he could fight damn near every Rear Admiral in the Navy and easily come out on top. He'd learned two types of haki while most of them had not, he'd received training from a Whitebeard Commander and he'd probably survived enough combat situations for the difference in experience to no longer matter. So, when Lafitte had referred to the Crew as a bunch of Rear Admiral and Vice Admiral tier fighters, Eddy had mentally placed himself near the top of the pack.

The issue was that Bellamy was so far above a Rear Admiral that it wasn't even funny anymore. It had been funny on Marineford when he'd gone through them like they weren't there, but the difference in physical stats was just patently unfair. The only thing still keeping Eddy in the fight were his own speed which matched the captain's own. Well, that and Bellamy's puzzling decision not to activate his Thunder Cloak.

"Wake up, Captain! This isn't the right time to be playing around!"

As it was, he was barely managing to keep himself alive, his knees buckling from the strain every time he parried an attack. And there were so many of them raining down without rest. If it hadn't been his life on the line, Eddy may have been impressed by how much force remained even after redirecting around half of the starting amount. But, as it was his life on the line, his brain did not have the capacity to reflect on such matters. Thankfully, relief finally came in the form of Hewitt's attempt to brain their captain with a frying pan, his loud approach creating enough of a distraction for Eddy to catch his breath.

Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

"Frying Pan Technique: Whack-A-Mole!"

Though his enthusiastic assault soon resulted in him getting trapped by Bellamy's new Spring Cube. While Eddy got to work cutting the cook free from his prison, the task of keeping the captain busy fell upon Ross' shoulders. A task which he did quite well, expertly using the many jet dials attached to his joints to distort his body out of harm's way. Whenever that wasn't feasible, Ross would use an impact dial to intercept that which he could not dodge.

"Keep him still, guys!"

Nobody expected such a state of affairs to last for long, least of all Ross. As such, when Bellamy transitioned into a grapple mid-punch, Ross grabbed hold of the offending arm without hesitation. Hewitt was quick to mirror him, wrapping up Bellamy's left arm in a giant dish cloth and pulling it taut with all his strength.

"Eddy, now!"

"Sorry, Captain but this is for your own good!"

"Shut up and swing already! We can't hold him for much longer!"

Eddy's blade smashed into his captain's head with all the force he could muster. Springs went flying everywhere, as Bellamy's Coil Chassis deformed to absorb the blow. Yet, the hope that the impact would snap him out of whatever hypnosis Lafitte had placed him under, was extinguished very quickly. Dozens if not hundreds of tiny springs converged upon the trio, packing a far greater punch than their minute size would suggest.

"Ack, they're like bloody bees!"

Ross used his impact dials to knock them away while Eddy's arms blurred as he did his best to create a cocoon of safety around himself. Hewitt, on the other hand, pulled out a giant cooking pot.

"Potluck Festival!"

Think Kirby's Smash Move from Super Smash Bros.

The moment he opened the lid, everything was drowned out by the deafening sound of air being sucked into a vast empty void. Bellamy's springs, which had until then been flying circles around Eddy and his friends, froze mid-flight before beginning a gradual descent into the cooking pot. Slowly at first but speeding up the closer they got to the silvery kitchen implement, until they were all drawn into open maw. Upon which Hewitt proceeded to slam the lid shut. The sight was so surreal that even Bellamy paused to try and make sense of what they'd just seen.

"Hewitt… what is that?"

"A cooking pot?" Hewitt smiled innocently, causing Ross to give him a deadpan look.

"A cooking pot."

"It's a special cooking pot?" Hewitt tried again to no avail. "Fine, I layered the insides with as many breath dials as I could fit into it. Then Laki helped me add the option to reverse the airflow, so that instead of expelling air, it sucks it in. A complex system, which I don't understand at all, then empties the dials as fast as they're filled so that I can maintain the attractive force indefinitely. It's basically a very powerful vacuum cleaner."

"A vacuum cleaner. Shaped like a pot."

"I'm a cook. I have a certain aesthetic to maintain."

Eddy wanted to argue this point more. To express his own incredulity because otherwise he'd feel like he was the odd one. He really did. Yet, that would have to wait until a better time because Bellamy had activated his Thunder Cloak. Whatever balance the trio had believed they'd achieved evaporated near immediately in the face of a raging storm. Before he could even blink, Bellamy was on him, fists already only centimeters from Eddy's chest.

"This is going to hurt, isn't it?"

"Spring Gatling."

It took Eddy three painful bounces on the ground to regain a semblance of balance. Still, apart from an ugly bruise beginning to spread across his ribcage, physically he was more or less fine. Four times Bellamy had tried to cave his chest in, and three times Eddy had managed to block him. It would have been four if his sword hadn't turned into a pile of molten metal mid-parry.

Things would have been a lot worse if it hadn't been for Ross jumping to Eddy's defense. Hewitt had joined him soon after, delaying the Captain long enough for Eddy to get his bearings. Not that his current situation was all that positive to be honest. He was a swordsman without his sword. Would he be able to positively contribute to the fight going forwards? Unlikely. In fact, it would be a miracle if his atrophied hand-to-hand abilities didn't weigh the others down instead. In a case like this, doing the smart thing would probably mean retreating and finding one of his practice blades.

"Hewitt? I thought cooks weren't afraid of a little heat."

"Ross…what about that says little to you? Additionally, that phrase is referring to kitchen level heat! The way he is now, it's a bloody miracle this ship hasn't caught fire yet! Kitchen and all!"

The problem was time. Would Hewitt and Ross be able to hold on without him? Would Eddy be able to do his part with the blunt swords he had left? Again, unlikely. He did have one other path of action he could take, though it was one he'd been putting off at Izou's behest. Yet, with Bellamy sending his two friends reeling, Eddy no longer had the luxury of waiting until he was perfectly ready.

With his mind made up, his hands reached across his shoulder to draw his bejeweled sword. Eddy wasn't a fool. He knew it was a cursed blade and hence, he'd been carrying it around to get used to its aura on Izou's recommendation. Once a holy sword, the Shichiseiken now granted immense power to any wielder it acknowledged in exchange for mental corruption. But what choice did he have if he wanted to save his friends? If he finished things quickly before the sword could really dig its claws into him...then maybe?

His fingers closed around the hilt and his world went red. Everything was hot. And cold. And everything in between. Strength flooded his arms, and his wounds disappeared as if they'd never existed in the first place. Exhilarating power, sweeter and more addictive than the greatest drugs, filled his being along with a new sense of confidence. Surely, he'd be able to knock some sense into his captain now, right? If he got a little roughed up in the process, well, it was all for his own good anyway.

Eddy wasn't going to kill him or anything. He wouldn't even hurt him all that badly. Just slice off his limbs to keep him still and… "GET OUT OF MY HEAD!"

"Are you sure? You know you need me."

"I need a sharp sword. I don't need you!"

"Are you willing to bet Muret's life on that? If you're not quick, Nero is going to kill her."

"Muret is strong and Funkreed is with her. My job is to delay the captain."

"If you say so. This was just meant to be a greeting anyway. When you fail, I'll be right here, waiting for you. Consider today a freebie."

The red hue lessened slightly but didn't go away. Not that it mattered. Nothing really mattered anymore, apart from his mission. Keep Bellamy busy. Keep Bellamy busy. Break his legs-JUST KEEP BELLAMY BUSY!

Armament became easier, observation became muddier. Though, when broken limbs healed within moments, that too no longer mattered. Sure, even with the sword boosting his abilities, landing a solid blow on Bellamy remained a difficult task. Yet, in the same vein, Bellamy no longer had the ability to put Eddy down in one blow. He'd need two or three and Eddy had minions he could use to prevent that from happening.

Like all things however, the fight had to end someday and that time came faster than Eddy had anticipated. Sparks flew as metal met metal, Bellamy's haki coated fist grasping Shichiseiken's ebony blade like a vice before it could pierce his shoulder. Ross, on the other hand, wrapped Bellamy's entire body up in canvas, holding on for dear life. And Hewitt? Hewitt used the provided opening to approach his momentarily immobilized captain and stuff…something down his throat.

A second passed. Then two. Then…Bellamy swallowed. The following convulsions sent Eddy and co bodily flying, Eddy vision clearing as he lost his grasp on the Shichiseiken. Which meant he had a clear view of his captain and friend kneeling on the ground, metaphorically retching his guts out.

"Hewitt, what did you feed him?"

"Grilled squid tentacles dressed in peanut butter."

"…uh. That's a rather creative combination."

"I know, right? It tastes so bad." Hewitt grinned. "Which makes it perfect."

"As long as you're happy with it, I suppose…"

A tortured groan interrupted the trio's conversation, causing three pairs of eyes to snap to where a very pale Bellamy was clambering back to his feet.

"I swear, Hewitt. If you serve that or anything like it to me ever again, I'm throwing you overboard. And if you two idiots let him do it, you'll be joining him."

It was a threat. A rather potent one too, if one considered the local maritime life. Yet, their faces lit up, worried frowns being replaced by wide relieved smiles.