Ask A Meister (and More)

“Hello, ocean!” 

The beach was not a common sight for the DWMA students. True, their missions took them all over the world--but every time they had to head back home to that city in the Nevada desert. 

“But today is a beach day!” 

Patty Thompson was shouting to no one in particular. While her classmates were still unpacking the van, she already had all the belongings she needed: towel, umbrella, floatie ducky innertube, phone, Bluetooth speaker, magazines, cooler full of ice and drinks--all of which she carried effortlessly, practically skipping across the sand. She was wearing sandals, a buttoned shirt, a straw beach hat, and jean shorts--and with her swimsuit already on underneath, she couldn’t wait to take them off and dive into the inviting blue ocean. 

As she ran forward, she shouted, “Nothing’s gonna get in my way!” 

Almost immediately her face collided with the sand. 

“Umph!” She lifted up her head, spitting out sand. “What the hell got in my way--” 

Her tirade was interrupted by her phone landing on her head, as it had flown out of her hands when she tripped. Then the speaker. Then the magazines. Clutching her banged-up head, she waved her hand to get the papers out of her eyes--before her towel slowly floated down and landed on her head. She let out an annoyed groan. That’s when the cooler finished the job, its corner practically lodging into her skull. She laid dead-motionless for a few seconds. 

Then came the scream: “AAAAARGG!” Patty growled, throwing the mess up into the air, fire in her eyes, pounding her fists against the sand like a child having a tantrum. “Who is responsible for this--” 

While she was still lying down on her belly, her now sandal-less left foot felt something. 

“Hmm?” 

Touch, touch. 

She shrieked. 

“IT’S A FURRY BEACH TARANTULA!” 

Patty was on her feet, armed with the beach umbrella, ready to stab it downward into the hairy threat--when she saw a round furry ball atop the sand. 

“Huh--how did I miss that?” 

She poked it again with her foot. 

“Hmm…” 

She nudged the ball a little harder with her foot. 

“MMMM!” she whined, before she just stepped on it, slamming the bottom of her foot down hard onto the ball--

A stream of water splashed right at her forehead. 

“EW! Spitting beach tarantula!” 

Patty wiped her face with the towel, then she had a realization: 

“Tarantulas don’t spit water.” 

That’s when the ball started to cough, revealing who he really was. 

She looked more closely at the furball--and her eyes widened in realization. 

"Lately I've been anemic. I get lightheaded and sometimes I don't remember sitting down where I wake up. Is that... related?"

Chopper happily clung to Black Star as he wound up in the picture with everyone, cheering aloud. "Woohoo! We need to get it framed soon! I bet everyone's gonna wish they were in it too! We might need to take more once we meet up with them..."

After the ride ended, Chopper ran out and started happily looking around for the nearest ride to conquer next. The Dugongs were already taking up plenty of line space on different rides, prompting the reindeer to nervously rub the back of his head.

"Ah... maybe... hm..."

The reindeer noticed that the dugongs weren't in line for a lot of the water rides, smiling a tiny bit wider despite his own inability to swim. Dugongs were so used to water that the rides did little for them, so it was a decent enough opportunity to get wet on a hot day.

"Oooh! One of you watch my stuff so it doesn't get wet!" Chopper requested of his new crew mates, tossing his hat and backpack aside before leaving them to decide who should keep watch until he got back.

Meanwhile, Chopper's stuff landed atop Liz's head and shoulders. She let out a defeated sigh.

"Tsu? Why don't you keep an eye on him and the others? I need to sit down."

Liz was facing the wrong way due to the hat blocking her view.

“Hello, ocean!” 

The beach was not a common sight for the DWMA students. True, their missions took them all over the world--but every time they had to head back home to that city in the Nevada desert. 

“But today is a beach day!” 

Patty Thompson was shouting to no one in particular. While her classmates were still unpacking the van, she already had all the belongings she needed: towel, umbrella, floatie ducky innertube, phone, Bluetooth speaker, magazines, cooler full of ice and drinks--all of which she carried effortlessly, practically skipping across the sand. She was wearing sandals, a buttoned shirt, a straw beach hat, and jean shorts--and with her swimsuit already on underneath, she couldn’t wait to take them off and dive into the inviting blue ocean. 

As she ran forward, she shouted, “Nothing’s gonna get in my way!” 

Almost immediately her face collided with the sand. 

“Umph!” She lifted up her head, spitting out sand. “What the hell got in my way--” 

Her tirade was interrupted by her phone landing on her head, as it had flown out of her hands when she tripped. Then the speaker. Then the magazines. Clutching her banged-up head, she waved her hand to get the papers out of her eyes--before her towel slowly floated down and landed on her head. She let out an annoyed groan. That’s when the cooler finished the job, its corner practically lodging into her skull. She laid dead-motionless for a few seconds. 

Then came the scream: “AAAAARGG!” Patty growled, throwing the mess up into the air, fire in her eyes, pounding her fists against the sand like a child having a tantrum. “Who is responsible for this--” 

While she was still lying down on her belly, her now sandal-less left foot felt something. 

“Hmm?” 

Touch, touch. 

She shrieked. 

“IT’S A FURRY BEACH TARANTULA!” 

Patty was on her feet, armed with the beach umbrella, ready to stab it downward into the hairy threat--when she saw a round furry ball atop the sand. 

“Huh--how did I miss that?” 

She poked it again with her foot. 

“Hmm…” 

She nudged the ball a little harder with her foot. 

“MMMM!” she whined, before she just stepped on it, slamming the bottom of her foot down hard onto the ball--

A stream of water splashed right at her forehead. 

“EW! Spitting beach tarantula!” 

Patty wiped her face with the towel, then she had a realization: 

“Tarantulas don’t spit water.” 

That’s when the ball started to cough, revealing who he really was. 

She looked more closely at the furball--and her eyes widened in realization. 

"Why are you here? Why am I out in this desert…?" Misao wasn't overly emotional, though she lowered her head for the sake of avoiding eye contact with Maka. It appeared she may have expected to hear bad news.

"Whoa~! Patty! Take a picture of me and Black Star! We're best friends now!" Chopper hopped onto Black Star's back and hugged him, getting his face right next to the aspiring ninja's own with a big smile.

Back at the Ferris wheel...

"I still think I'm going to hurl flowers," Black Star said to Chopper. "Don't shake me that much, little man!"

Tsubaki flashed a peace sign. "Ready!"

Patty held the phone out from herself to get a selfie in the shot. "Cheese!"

“Hello, ocean!” 

The beach was not a common sight for the DWMA students. True, their missions took them all over the world--but every time they had to head back home to that city in the Nevada desert. 

“But today is a beach day!” 

Patty Thompson was shouting to no one in particular. While her classmates were still unpacking the van, she already had all the belongings she needed: towel, umbrella, floatie ducky innertube, phone, Bluetooth speaker, magazines, cooler full of ice and drinks--all of which she carried effortlessly, practically skipping across the sand. She was wearing sandals, a buttoned shirt, a straw beach hat, and jean shorts--and with her swimsuit already on underneath, she couldn’t wait to take them off and dive into the inviting blue ocean. 

As she ran forward, she shouted, “Nothing’s gonna get in my way!” 

Almost immediately her face collided with the sand. 

“Umph!” She lifted up her head, spitting out sand. “What the hell got in my way--” 

Her tirade was interrupted by her phone landing on her head, as it had flown out of her hands when she tripped. Then the speaker. Then the magazines. Clutching her banged-up head, she waved her hand to get the papers out of her eyes--before her towel slowly floated down and landed on her head. She let out an annoyed groan. That’s when the cooler finished the job, its corner practically lodging into her skull. She laid dead-motionless for a few seconds. 

Then came the scream: “AAAAARGG!” Patty growled, throwing the mess up into the air, fire in her eyes, pounding her fists against the sand like a child having a tantrum. “Who is responsible for this--” 

While she was still lying down on her belly, her now sandal-less left foot felt something. 

“Hmm?” 

Touch, touch. 

She shrieked. 

“IT’S A FURRY BEACH TARANTULA!” 

Patty was on her feet, armed with the beach umbrella, ready to stab it downward into the hairy threat--when she saw a round furry ball atop the sand. 

“Huh--how did I miss that?” 

She poked it again with her foot. 

“Hmm…” 

She nudged the ball a little harder with her foot. 

“MMMM!” she whined, before she just stepped on it, slamming the bottom of her foot down hard onto the ball--

A stream of water splashed right at her forehead. 

“EW! Spitting beach tarantula!” 

Patty wiped her face with the towel, then she had a realization: 

“Tarantulas don’t spit water.” 

That’s when the ball started to cough, revealing who he really was. 

She looked more closely at the furball--and her eyes widened in realization. 

"My head… why does it hurt like this?" The pre-teen rose her right hand to hold her temple, a troubled expression never leaving her face, though when Maka finally asked her about herself, she lowered her arm to gaze curiously at the older girl.

"My name is… Misao." Things seemed to be going simply enough so far. There were no weapons, no signs of magic, and no trace of witch in her soul.

Chopper listened to Liz, tilting his head curiously. "Eh? I dunno what danger you're talking about. The dugongs are all right here and they seem pretty happy! Plus we got Jugemu back!" Chopper smiled again, seeming to have missed the part about the others being attacked by a witch. In fairness, all he heard was that a girl with multiple personalities delayed them and that Liz almost died. That could've meant tons of things, but upon hearing about a witch, Chopper's eyes shot forth a fearsome, serious glare, his body straightening up.

"Liz! I'm giving you strict orders to bring that witch to the ship and guard her with your life! You're not to allow her into the amusement park under any circumstances! We'll figure something out after I take everyone here onto the Sky Lift ride and get a selfie of us!"

And as Liz didn't have to see Chopper's hardened determination, she listened to his words and his intention, so she came away with one thought:

"You listen to me, you antler-wearing little creep..."

Liz spoke in the quietest, most even voice possible, with a smile held together by grit so as to suppress the urge to throttle Chopper.

"I don't want a witch getting out of control, either, but if you think I'm waiting for you to finish time on the merry-go-round or whatever, you got another thing coming. Now get your ass over here, otherwise when I find you I'm gonna break off your hooves and wear them like tap shoes as I stomp all over your furry butt..."

Patty was already holding the phone.

"He already got off the phone to look out from the Ferris wheel car thingie, sis." She paused. "Right about when you mentioned the merry-go-round or whatever."

Liz could be heard letting loose expletives on the other end of the phone.

“Hello, ocean!” 

The beach was not a common sight for the DWMA students. True, their missions took them all over the world--but every time they had to head back home to that city in the Nevada desert. 

“But today is a beach day!” 

Patty Thompson was shouting to no one in particular. While her classmates were still unpacking the van, she already had all the belongings she needed: towel, umbrella, floatie ducky innertube, phone, Bluetooth speaker, magazines, cooler full of ice and drinks--all of which she carried effortlessly, practically skipping across the sand. She was wearing sandals, a buttoned shirt, a straw beach hat, and jean shorts--and with her swimsuit already on underneath, she couldn’t wait to take them off and dive into the inviting blue ocean. 

As she ran forward, she shouted, “Nothing’s gonna get in my way!” 

Almost immediately her face collided with the sand. 

“Umph!” She lifted up her head, spitting out sand. “What the hell got in my way--” 

Her tirade was interrupted by her phone landing on her head, as it had flown out of her hands when she tripped. Then the speaker. Then the magazines. Clutching her banged-up head, she waved her hand to get the papers out of her eyes--before her towel slowly floated down and landed on her head. She let out an annoyed groan. That’s when the cooler finished the job, its corner practically lodging into her skull. She laid dead-motionless for a few seconds. 

Then came the scream: “AAAAARGG!” Patty growled, throwing the mess up into the air, fire in her eyes, pounding her fists against the sand like a child having a tantrum. “Who is responsible for this--” 

While she was still lying down on her belly, her now sandal-less left foot felt something. 

“Hmm?” 

Touch, touch. 

She shrieked. 

“IT’S A FURRY BEACH TARANTULA!” 

Patty was on her feet, armed with the beach umbrella, ready to stab it downward into the hairy threat--when she saw a round furry ball atop the sand. 

“Huh--how did I miss that?” 

She poked it again with her foot. 

“Hmm…” 

She nudged the ball a little harder with her foot. 

“MMMM!” she whined, before she just stepped on it, slamming the bottom of her foot down hard onto the ball--

A stream of water splashed right at her forehead. 

“EW! Spitting beach tarantula!” 

Patty wiped her face with the towel, then she had a realization: 

“Tarantulas don’t spit water.” 

That’s when the ball started to cough, revealing who he really was. 

She looked more closely at the furball--and her eyes widened in realization. 

The younger girl seemed unaware of what she'd done. If not, she was basically admitting that, if all witches were bad, she was bad too. There was no other explanation. Surely, she had to be put down before she could harm others, no matter how innocent and scared she appeared. It was their job.

"Ah~! Patty! Don't tell her it'll make her jealous or she won't get jealous~! Now she knows we need her to come here!" Chopper whined with a frown on his face, though he didn't seem particularly angry at Patty for blowing his little game. Eyes shot wide open when Chopper finally absorbed with Liz said.

Maka hesitated. She set Soul down. He took that as his cue to turn back to human form.

"Guess not."

"I do not see a witch's soul here," Kid said. "She could be using Protect to hide it again. Still, it may be best to--"

Liz already had Kid by the neck--half-hearing the conversation while on the phone. "Didn't see you trying that on Kim or Angela--like hell you're trying that here!"

Maka panicked. "Hey, could everyone just chill!" She cleared her throat, approaching the girl. "Hey. What's your name?"

“Hello, ocean!” 

The beach was not a common sight for the DWMA students. True, their missions took them all over the world--but every time they had to head back home to that city in the Nevada desert. 

“But today is a beach day!” 

Patty Thompson was shouting to no one in particular. While her classmates were still unpacking the van, she already had all the belongings she needed: towel, umbrella, floatie ducky innertube, phone, Bluetooth speaker, magazines, cooler full of ice and drinks--all of which she carried effortlessly, practically skipping across the sand. She was wearing sandals, a buttoned shirt, a straw beach hat, and jean shorts--and with her swimsuit already on underneath, she couldn’t wait to take them off and dive into the inviting blue ocean. 

As she ran forward, she shouted, “Nothing’s gonna get in my way!” 

Almost immediately her face collided with the sand. 

“Umph!” She lifted up her head, spitting out sand. “What the hell got in my way--” 

Her tirade was interrupted by her phone landing on her head, as it had flown out of her hands when she tripped. Then the speaker. Then the magazines. Clutching her banged-up head, she waved her hand to get the papers out of her eyes--before her towel slowly floated down and landed on her head. She let out an annoyed groan. That’s when the cooler finished the job, its corner practically lodging into her skull. She laid dead-motionless for a few seconds. 

Then came the scream: “AAAAARGG!” Patty growled, throwing the mess up into the air, fire in her eyes, pounding her fists against the sand like a child having a tantrum. “Who is responsible for this--” 

While she was still lying down on her belly, her now sandal-less left foot felt something. 

“Hmm?” 

Touch, touch. 

She shrieked. 

“IT’S A FURRY BEACH TARANTULA!” 

Patty was on her feet, armed with the beach umbrella, ready to stab it downward into the hairy threat--when she saw a round furry ball atop the sand. 

“Huh--how did I miss that?” 

She poked it again with her foot. 

“Hmm…” 

She nudged the ball a little harder with her foot. 

“MMMM!” she whined, before she just stepped on it, slamming the bottom of her foot down hard onto the ball--

A stream of water splashed right at her forehead. 

“EW! Spitting beach tarantula!” 

Patty wiped her face with the towel, then she had a realization: 

“Tarantulas don’t spit water.” 

That’s when the ball started to cough, revealing who he really was. 

She looked more closely at the furball--and her eyes widened in realization. 

"Wow~! They sure are excited for this one! Must be fun if those guys're taking time out for it!" Chopper excitedly gawked, stretching his arms overhead and producing a few pops and cracks in the process. Getting washed up ashore meant he probably hit a few rocks on the way in, but you wouldn't know it from how quickly the two recovered.

"Oh!" Chopper piped up again, noticing Patty's phone vibrating. "Is that Liz? Tell her you're having fun with your Big Bro so she doesn't have to worry about a thing~!" Chopper stuck his tongue out playfully, figuring teasing Liz with the idea of Patty getting taken would be amusing. "Oh! Someone take a picture of me and Patty so we can send it to Liz!" That'd probably get a fun reaction.

Slowly, the girl whose body was formerly that of Pixy Misa's opened here eyes. She slowly sat up, placing a hand atop her temple. "My… head." She wore a typical Japanese middle school student uniform, the black magician girl outfit from Pixy Misa not totally gone.

"BOO!"

"Get a new reference!"

Maka bonked Kid's head and Soul's blade with the edge of her hand. "Pipe down." She turned back to try chatting with the girl.

Meanwhile, Liz was in tears, talking with Patty on the phone. "LITTLE SIS! I WAS SO SCARED! Your big sis almost died!"

Patty stared forward--before quickly stating in a monotone voice, "Big Bro Captain Chopper says I'm having fun with him and that you have nothing to worry about. Also, we're going to take photos of us on the Ferris wheel to make you jealous."

"I'LL KILL 'EM!" Liz could be heard shouting from the other end of the phone.

Patty was now jovial: "That's the big sis I remembered, not the emo cry baby! When you getting over here to the amusement park?!"

"As soon as we figure out how far we are from there." Liz was calmer, carrying on a conversation--while carefully massaging Kid's head where Maka chopped him. "We got delayed by some girl with multiple personalities."

"Bet Kiddo likes that."

"I HEARD THAT! AND NO, I DON'T!"

“Hello, ocean!” 

The beach was not a common sight for the DWMA students. True, their missions took them all over the world--but every time they had to head back home to that city in the Nevada desert. 

“But today is a beach day!” 

Patty Thompson was shouting to no one in particular. While her classmates were still unpacking the van, she already had all the belongings she needed: towel, umbrella, floatie ducky innertube, phone, Bluetooth speaker, magazines, cooler full of ice and drinks--all of which she carried effortlessly, practically skipping across the sand. She was wearing sandals, a buttoned shirt, a straw beach hat, and jean shorts--and with her swimsuit already on underneath, she couldn’t wait to take them off and dive into the inviting blue ocean. 

As she ran forward, she shouted, “Nothing’s gonna get in my way!” 

Almost immediately her face collided with the sand. 

“Umph!” She lifted up her head, spitting out sand. “What the hell got in my way--” 

Her tirade was interrupted by her phone landing on her head, as it had flown out of her hands when she tripped. Then the speaker. Then the magazines. Clutching her banged-up head, she waved her hand to get the papers out of her eyes--before her towel slowly floated down and landed on her head. She let out an annoyed groan. That’s when the cooler finished the job, its corner practically lodging into her skull. She laid dead-motionless for a few seconds. 

Then came the scream: “AAAAARGG!” Patty growled, throwing the mess up into the air, fire in her eyes, pounding her fists against the sand like a child having a tantrum. “Who is responsible for this--” 

While she was still lying down on her belly, her now sandal-less left foot felt something. 

“Hmm?” 

Touch, touch. 

She shrieked. 

“IT’S A FURRY BEACH TARANTULA!” 

Patty was on her feet, armed with the beach umbrella, ready to stab it downward into the hairy threat--when she saw a round furry ball atop the sand. 

“Huh--how did I miss that?” 

She poked it again with her foot. 

“Hmm…” 

She nudged the ball a little harder with her foot. 

“MMMM!” she whined, before she just stepped on it, slamming the bottom of her foot down hard onto the ball--

A stream of water splashed right at her forehead. 

“EW! Spitting beach tarantula!” 

Patty wiped her face with the towel, then she had a realization: 

“Tarantulas don’t spit water.” 

That’s when the ball started to cough, revealing who he really was. 

She looked more closely at the furball--and her eyes widened in realization. 

Chopper waved his arms as if telling Patty not to do it, still seeming to treat the toy knife as though it were a real one.

"Black Star! So mean! Fine! Patty'll do it instead!" Chopper grabbed Patty's hand and held it in order to ensure she'd be too distracted to make any moves with the knife. It wouldn't be long before they boarded the wheel.

"I don't know, but I think I'm be-throned?"

"It's 'betrothed,' Black Star," Tsubaki started--before her face scrunched up, her eyes narrowed, and her smile turned forced. "I'm sorry, you mean someone is trying to marry you now?"

"Look, Captain, the Ferris wheel bucket thingie is moving!"

Sure enough, it was now their turn to board the Ferris wheel--with Patty and Chopper having similar childish glee, while Tsubaki's murderous intent was rising.

Elsewhere, Maka was still poking the unconscious Misa.

"Come on, wake up and explain what the heck is going on!"

"That's not how you wake up people, Maka."

"It gets Soul up in the morning."

"That's why I come to school with headaches. AND STOP POKING ME AT HER!"

“Hello, ocean!” 

The beach was not a common sight for the DWMA students. True, their missions took them all over the world--but every time they had to head back home to that city in the Nevada desert. 

“But today is a beach day!” 

Patty Thompson was shouting to no one in particular. While her classmates were still unpacking the van, she already had all the belongings she needed: towel, umbrella, floatie ducky innertube, phone, Bluetooth speaker, magazines, cooler full of ice and drinks--all of which she carried effortlessly, practically skipping across the sand. She was wearing sandals, a buttoned shirt, a straw beach hat, and jean shorts--and with her swimsuit already on underneath, she couldn’t wait to take them off and dive into the inviting blue ocean. 

As she ran forward, she shouted, “Nothing’s gonna get in my way!” 

Almost immediately her face collided with the sand. 

“Umph!” She lifted up her head, spitting out sand. “What the hell got in my way--” 

Her tirade was interrupted by her phone landing on her head, as it had flown out of her hands when she tripped. Then the speaker. Then the magazines. Clutching her banged-up head, she waved her hand to get the papers out of her eyes--before her towel slowly floated down and landed on her head. She let out an annoyed groan. That’s when the cooler finished the job, its corner practically lodging into her skull. She laid dead-motionless for a few seconds. 

Then came the scream: “AAAAARGG!” Patty growled, throwing the mess up into the air, fire in her eyes, pounding her fists against the sand like a child having a tantrum. “Who is responsible for this--” 

While she was still lying down on her belly, her now sandal-less left foot felt something. 

“Hmm?” 

Touch, touch. 

She shrieked. 

“IT’S A FURRY BEACH TARANTULA!” 

Patty was on her feet, armed with the beach umbrella, ready to stab it downward into the hairy threat--when she saw a round furry ball atop the sand. 

“Huh--how did I miss that?” 

She poked it again with her foot. 

“Hmm…” 

She nudged the ball a little harder with her foot. 

“MMMM!” she whined, before she just stepped on it, slamming the bottom of her foot down hard onto the ball--

A stream of water splashed right at her forehead. 

“EW! Spitting beach tarantula!” 

Patty wiped her face with the towel, then she had a realization: 

“Tarantulas don’t spit water.” 

That’s when the ball started to cough, revealing who he really was. 

She looked more closely at the furball--and her eyes widened in realization. 

"UGYAH!"

Pixy Misa was knocked unconscious… surprisingly easily. Her Love-Love Monster had also bled to death from having its jaw destroyed, its gigantic body toppled over behind the witch. After a few seconds, Misa's body transformed into that of a somewhat shorter, black-haired preteen girl, still with a bump on her head from Maka's attack, totally motionless and still unconscious. They had defeated Pixy Misa solely by her lack of physicality compared to the others, her specialty being purely magic based.

Meanwhile, the Dugongs carried Black Star right over to where Chopper stood in line with the other two. The reindeer frowned softly, realizing Black Star was the only one not changed out of his swimwear.

"Uwah! They should've dropped you off by the ship! Are we gonna be allowed in like this? I guess there are some water rides."

That sure was a nice way to greet Black Star again. Chopper rubbed the back of his head to shake away the anxiety. Their turn in line was coming up. Chopper rummaged through his pocket to make sure he had enough money to pay for everyone's admission.

"I wanna go on the Ferris Wheel first, but it's so high! Black Star! Hold my hand while we go on it, okay?" A shameless request that he had no hesitation making as he pointed to a Ferris Wheel they could see from outside the park. A pirate captain with a fear of heights. How pathetic.

"Could you not use me for this?"

--with the top of the staff of Soul's scythe form.

"Can never be too careful," Maka said.

"You're shoving me at her head!"

"Hang on..." Maka turned on her soul perception to try to get a read on this seemingly new person, or a new facet of the same person.

Meanwhile, now in line for the Ferris wheel, Black Star was confused--more than usual.

"I just got carried here after eating a ton of flowers, my belly hurts--and instead of putting me on a roller coaster so I can puke my guts out like any real theme park fan would do, you're having me get on a wimpy Ferris wheel because your scrawny butt is afraid of heights?"

Patty was behind Black Star--fire in her eyes, starting to withdraw her pirate toy sword with murderous intent.

“Hello, ocean!” 

The beach was not a common sight for the DWMA students. True, their missions took them all over the world--but every time they had to head back home to that city in the Nevada desert. 

“But today is a beach day!” 

Patty Thompson was shouting to no one in particular. While her classmates were still unpacking the van, she already had all the belongings she needed: towel, umbrella, floatie ducky innertube, phone, Bluetooth speaker, magazines, cooler full of ice and drinks--all of which she carried effortlessly, practically skipping across the sand. She was wearing sandals, a buttoned shirt, a straw beach hat, and jean shorts--and with her swimsuit already on underneath, she couldn’t wait to take them off and dive into the inviting blue ocean. 

As she ran forward, she shouted, “Nothing’s gonna get in my way!” 

Almost immediately her face collided with the sand. 

“Umph!” She lifted up her head, spitting out sand. “What the hell got in my way--” 

Her tirade was interrupted by her phone landing on her head, as it had flown out of her hands when she tripped. Then the speaker. Then the magazines. Clutching her banged-up head, she waved her hand to get the papers out of her eyes--before her towel slowly floated down and landed on her head. She let out an annoyed groan. That’s when the cooler finished the job, its corner practically lodging into her skull. She laid dead-motionless for a few seconds. 

Then came the scream: “AAAAARGG!” Patty growled, throwing the mess up into the air, fire in her eyes, pounding her fists against the sand like a child having a tantrum. “Who is responsible for this--” 

While she was still lying down on her belly, her now sandal-less left foot felt something. 

“Hmm?” 

Touch, touch. 

She shrieked. 

“IT’S A FURRY BEACH TARANTULA!” 

Patty was on her feet, armed with the beach umbrella, ready to stab it downward into the hairy threat--when she saw a round furry ball atop the sand. 

“Huh--how did I miss that?” 

She poked it again with her foot. 

“Hmm…” 

She nudged the ball a little harder with her foot. 

“MMMM!” she whined, before she just stepped on it, slamming the bottom of her foot down hard onto the ball--

A stream of water splashed right at her forehead. 

“EW! Spitting beach tarantula!” 

Patty wiped her face with the towel, then she had a realization: 

“Tarantulas don’t spit water.” 

That’s when the ball started to cough, revealing who he really was. 

She looked more closely at the furball--and her eyes widened in realization. 

"You jerks! You hurt my Love-Love Monster!" The monster was groaning in agony as Pixy Misa kept whacking away at the windshield of the car with a magician's cane. It was just wood, but it would be enough with a normal windshield, only held back by the fact that Pixy Misa had the body of a preteen girl.

A new crack formed through the windshield, before the windshield shattered--but from inside the vehicle and out toward PIxy Misa, as a hand clutching a book was coming for her head.

"CHOP!"

The book slammed down hard atop Misa's head, leaving an indent the shape of the book's spine, before Misa's chin slammed into the hood of the van, denting it and knocking it up out of its alignment with the rest of the van.

"You do know this was a rental, right?"

"You want what she just got, Soul?"

Soul crossed his arms and fell back into the car seat, pouting. "Jerk."

“Hello, ocean!” 

The beach was not a common sight for the DWMA students. True, their missions took them all over the world--but every time they had to head back home to that city in the Nevada desert. 

“But today is a beach day!” 

Patty Thompson was shouting to no one in particular. While her classmates were still unpacking the van, she already had all the belongings she needed: towel, umbrella, floatie ducky innertube, phone, Bluetooth speaker, magazines, cooler full of ice and drinks--all of which she carried effortlessly, practically skipping across the sand. She was wearing sandals, a buttoned shirt, a straw beach hat, and jean shorts--and with her swimsuit already on underneath, she couldn’t wait to take them off and dive into the inviting blue ocean. 

As she ran forward, she shouted, “Nothing’s gonna get in my way!” 

Almost immediately her face collided with the sand. 

“Umph!” She lifted up her head, spitting out sand. “What the hell got in my way--” 

Her tirade was interrupted by her phone landing on her head, as it had flown out of her hands when she tripped. Then the speaker. Then the magazines. Clutching her banged-up head, she waved her hand to get the papers out of her eyes--before her towel slowly floated down and landed on her head. She let out an annoyed groan. That’s when the cooler finished the job, its corner practically lodging into her skull. She laid dead-motionless for a few seconds. 

Then came the scream: “AAAAARGG!” Patty growled, throwing the mess up into the air, fire in her eyes, pounding her fists against the sand like a child having a tantrum. “Who is responsible for this--” 

While she was still lying down on her belly, her now sandal-less left foot felt something. 

“Hmm?” 

Touch, touch. 

She shrieked. 

“IT’S A FURRY BEACH TARANTULA!” 

Patty was on her feet, armed with the beach umbrella, ready to stab it downward into the hairy threat--when she saw a round furry ball atop the sand. 

“Huh--how did I miss that?” 

She poked it again with her foot. 

“Hmm…” 

She nudged the ball a little harder with her foot. 

“MMMM!” she whined, before she just stepped on it, slamming the bottom of her foot down hard onto the ball--

A stream of water splashed right at her forehead. 

“EW! Spitting beach tarantula!” 

Patty wiped her face with the towel, then she had a realization: 

“Tarantulas don’t spit water.” 

That’s when the ball started to cough, revealing who he really was. 

She looked more closely at the furball--and her eyes widened in realization. 

Chopper walked right over to the anchor, transforming into his muscular human form in order to grab the thing. The ship was headed over to a nearby dock right in front of a boardwalk amusement park. Clearly Chopper had plans to waste time over there rather than waiting on the ship for everyone else.

Meanwhile, Pixy Misa was glaring daggers at the group, Liz in particular. She not only insulted her gorgeous blonde hair, but had the audacity to ask why she was attacking them with her precious Love-Love Monster. Very well. With her right hand raised, the monster curiously tilted its head and made another adorable noise, no longer attacking for now.

"You people thought I didn't notice you!? Cozying up to the Dugongs!? To my Dugongs!? The Queen was supposed to show me her favor, give me her ship, and pledge her allegiance to my lovely and perfect Captain Buggy! You people stole her attention with your silly ninja! Get on your knees and apologize! Beg for forgiveness and hand over your belongings and I'll let you all scamper back home on foot! Go on! Out of that dumb van!"

"Who's Buggy?" Soul asked.

"Obviously it has to be someone involved with bugs!" Liz answered.

"Oh, Buggy Bunny?" Maka offered.

"No, that's a cartoon, this is real life," Kid replied.

They were continuing their conversation, not even making an attempt to exit the van.

Elsewhere, with Black Star--

A loud belch escaped from the Dugong camp.

“Hello, ocean!” 

The beach was not a common sight for the DWMA students. True, their missions took them all over the world--but every time they had to head back home to that city in the Nevada desert. 

“But today is a beach day!” 

Patty Thompson was shouting to no one in particular. While her classmates were still unpacking the van, she already had all the belongings she needed: towel, umbrella, floatie ducky innertube, phone, Bluetooth speaker, magazines, cooler full of ice and drinks--all of which she carried effortlessly, practically skipping across the sand. She was wearing sandals, a buttoned shirt, a straw beach hat, and jean shorts--and with her swimsuit already on underneath, she couldn’t wait to take them off and dive into the inviting blue ocean. 

As she ran forward, she shouted, “Nothing’s gonna get in my way!” 

Almost immediately her face collided with the sand. 

“Umph!” She lifted up her head, spitting out sand. “What the hell got in my way--” 

Her tirade was interrupted by her phone landing on her head, as it had flown out of her hands when she tripped. Then the speaker. Then the magazines. Clutching her banged-up head, she waved her hand to get the papers out of her eyes--before her towel slowly floated down and landed on her head. She let out an annoyed groan. That’s when the cooler finished the job, its corner practically lodging into her skull. She laid dead-motionless for a few seconds. 

Then came the scream: “AAAAARGG!” Patty growled, throwing the mess up into the air, fire in her eyes, pounding her fists against the sand like a child having a tantrum. “Who is responsible for this--” 

While she was still lying down on her belly, her now sandal-less left foot felt something. 

“Hmm?” 

Touch, touch. 

She shrieked. 

“IT’S A FURRY BEACH TARANTULA!” 

Patty was on her feet, armed with the beach umbrella, ready to stab it downward into the hairy threat--when she saw a round furry ball atop the sand. 

“Huh--how did I miss that?” 

She poked it again with her foot. 

“Hmm…” 

She nudged the ball a little harder with her foot. 

“MMMM!” she whined, before she just stepped on it, slamming the bottom of her foot down hard onto the ball--

A stream of water splashed right at her forehead. 

“EW! Spitting beach tarantula!” 

Patty wiped her face with the towel, then she had a realization: 

“Tarantulas don’t spit water.” 

That’s when the ball started to cough, revealing who he really was. 

She looked more closely at the furball--and her eyes widened in realization. 

"Ahh! You foolish little kids! You'll hurt somebody!" She shouted despite appearing even younger than they were and not acting very mature for the most part. The Love-Love Monster indeed opened its mouth, leaking fumes of Love-Love Witch Energy from the bullet holes as it dropped the van in order to hold its jaw up with a confused whimper.

"No! It can't take too much damage, you fools! Stop bullying my Love-Love Monster!" Pixy Misa leaped off its shoulder to land in front of the van, holding her hand out so that a magical cane would poof into it. After a few practice twirls, she aimed the cane at the van and fired a bunch of roses with thorns on the vine that weren't strong enough to penetrate the windshield. It seemed this was a harmless way to express disapproval at their choices.

The two instantly stopped fighting. "We're sorry, Captain." Tsubaki set down Chopper before Patty softly patted his head. They looked traumatized by what they imagined.

Meanwhile, Maka got into the driver's seat, turning on the wiper blades--which only made the rose thorns scratch across the windshield. "Damn it..."

"What did we even do to you, huh?" Liz shouted, sticking her head out the passenger window. "Call off your creepy monster and go back to Oz or wherever you come from, you shrill witch with the bad hair?!"

"Damn, Liz, you didn't need to do her like that..."

“Hello, ocean!” 

The beach was not a common sight for the DWMA students. True, their missions took them all over the world--but every time they had to head back home to that city in the Nevada desert. 

“But today is a beach day!” 

Patty Thompson was shouting to no one in particular. While her classmates were still unpacking the van, she already had all the belongings she needed: towel, umbrella, floatie ducky innertube, phone, Bluetooth speaker, magazines, cooler full of ice and drinks--all of which she carried effortlessly, practically skipping across the sand. She was wearing sandals, a buttoned shirt, a straw beach hat, and jean shorts--and with her swimsuit already on underneath, she couldn’t wait to take them off and dive into the inviting blue ocean. 

As she ran forward, she shouted, “Nothing’s gonna get in my way!” 

Almost immediately her face collided with the sand. 

“Umph!” She lifted up her head, spitting out sand. “What the hell got in my way--” 

Her tirade was interrupted by her phone landing on her head, as it had flown out of her hands when she tripped. Then the speaker. Then the magazines. Clutching her banged-up head, she waved her hand to get the papers out of her eyes--before her towel slowly floated down and landed on her head. She let out an annoyed groan. That’s when the cooler finished the job, its corner practically lodging into her skull. She laid dead-motionless for a few seconds. 

Then came the scream: “AAAAARGG!” Patty growled, throwing the mess up into the air, fire in her eyes, pounding her fists against the sand like a child having a tantrum. “Who is responsible for this--” 

While she was still lying down on her belly, her now sandal-less left foot felt something. 

“Hmm?” 

Touch, touch. 

She shrieked. 

“IT’S A FURRY BEACH TARANTULA!” 

Patty was on her feet, armed with the beach umbrella, ready to stab it downward into the hairy threat--when she saw a round furry ball atop the sand. 

“Huh--how did I miss that?” 

She poked it again with her foot. 

“Hmm…” 

She nudged the ball a little harder with her foot. 

“MMMM!” she whined, before she just stepped on it, slamming the bottom of her foot down hard onto the ball--

A stream of water splashed right at her forehead. 

“EW! Spitting beach tarantula!” 

Patty wiped her face with the towel, then she had a realization: 

“Tarantulas don’t spit water.” 

That’s when the ball started to cough, revealing who he really was. 

She looked more closely at the furball--and her eyes widened in realization. 

The witch kept laughing, leaping up with surprisingly agility onto the monster's shoulder. "Ohoho~! Wouldn't want you to crash, would we? Go, my Love-Love Monster! Gobble up their silly van!"

BANG, BANG, BANG!

--while her soul bullets fired out of her arm, transformed into a pistol.

"I don't want to get vored by a monster!" Liz let out in a sob, tears falling down her face.

Everyone just looked at Liz. This remark even managed to wake up Kid.

"What does that even mean?" Maka and Kid both started to ask, before Soul interrupted: "Don't ask--we're in enough trouble as is."

The soul bullet managed to slice through the Love-Love Monster's jaw, and given Liz's poor aim while this upset, even left a small supernatural flame atop Pixy Misa's head.

“Hello, ocean!” 

The beach was not a common sight for the DWMA students. True, their missions took them all over the world--but every time they had to head back home to that city in the Nevada desert. 

“But today is a beach day!” 

Patty Thompson was shouting to no one in particular. While her classmates were still unpacking the van, she already had all the belongings she needed: towel, umbrella, floatie ducky innertube, phone, Bluetooth speaker, magazines, cooler full of ice and drinks--all of which she carried effortlessly, practically skipping across the sand. She was wearing sandals, a buttoned shirt, a straw beach hat, and jean shorts--and with her swimsuit already on underneath, she couldn’t wait to take them off and dive into the inviting blue ocean. 

As she ran forward, she shouted, “Nothing’s gonna get in my way!” 

Almost immediately her face collided with the sand. 

“Umph!” She lifted up her head, spitting out sand. “What the hell got in my way--” 

Her tirade was interrupted by her phone landing on her head, as it had flown out of her hands when she tripped. Then the speaker. Then the magazines. Clutching her banged-up head, she waved her hand to get the papers out of her eyes--before her towel slowly floated down and landed on her head. She let out an annoyed groan. That’s when the cooler finished the job, its corner practically lodging into her skull. She laid dead-motionless for a few seconds. 

Then came the scream: “AAAAARGG!” Patty growled, throwing the mess up into the air, fire in her eyes, pounding her fists against the sand like a child having a tantrum. “Who is responsible for this--” 

While she was still lying down on her belly, her now sandal-less left foot felt something. 

“Hmm?” 

Touch, touch. 

She shrieked. 

“IT’S A FURRY BEACH TARANTULA!” 

Patty was on her feet, armed with the beach umbrella, ready to stab it downward into the hairy threat--when she saw a round furry ball atop the sand. 

“Huh--how did I miss that?” 

She poked it again with her foot. 

“Hmm…” 

She nudged the ball a little harder with her foot. 

“MMMM!” she whined, before she just stepped on it, slamming the bottom of her foot down hard onto the ball--

A stream of water splashed right at her forehead. 

“EW! Spitting beach tarantula!” 

Patty wiped her face with the towel, then she had a realization: 

“Tarantulas don’t spit water.” 

That’s when the ball started to cough, revealing who he really was. 

She looked more closely at the furball--and her eyes widened in realization. 

"Patty… I really had faith you'd be the one! You were gonna be the vice-captain who I could trust to run the seas at my side, above all the other crew members. But…"

The reindeer stepped closer to Tsubaki, his frown turning to a softer and more endeared smile as he chose to wipe his tears away with his forearm, offering a reassuring smile to Tsubaki. "I guess I should've known a ninja would be the best choice after all! Tsubaki, do you wanna be my vice-captain?" The sheer betrayal! Patty's position was threatened by her lack of pirate-y attire.

Maka could read the witch's soul. Chaotic and malevolent as any witch's would be, but the most noteworthy thing about this one was her weak spiritual presence in spite of some degree of danger coming from her monsters. It seemed that despite her boisterous nature, she herself wasn't much for fighting.

"Hohoho~! The mere sight of my Love-Love Monsters has brought the mighty Death to his knees! None can stand before me now!" With that, the wacky witch leapt from behind the giant monster and landed right on the roof of the van, smirking mischievously. Her boots seemed to stick to the surface in spite of the movement of the vehicle.

"No escaping now, you dirty DWMA goody two shoes!" She laughed triumphantly, giving the roof of the van a stomp just to assert herself as the monster ran after them. She waved her precious monster over like an air traffic patrol person, her arms waving toward herself. "Come! Love these fools to oblivion!"

"Captain Chopper..." Patty's voice was low and threatening. "Is there such a thing as mutiny against a vice captain?" She pulled out a toy sword, aiming it at Tsubaki's throat.

Back at the van--

*SLICE*

A scythe's blade went right through the blob's arm.

"Enough with the monologuing," Soul said from inside the scythe, now held by Maka. "If you want to fight, we're up for it. Right, Maka?"

Maka grinned and nodded. "She doesn't seem too tough. And it'll be the witch's soul we need to complete your transformation, Soul!"

Although Soul was quick with the retort, and Maka was book smart, there was one flaw they both shared.

"Ugh," Liz groaned, sitting up. "Is the bad monster gone?" She got her answer, seeing the monster still outside--and something even more frightening.

"You morons!" Liz shouted. "Who's driving the van?"

Maka, in the middle of leaping for an attack, froze in the air. Soul was in scythe form, in her hands. He was no longer holding the steering wheel, his feet were not ready at the pedals. Maka was mortified.

That was their one flaw: two souls united--and one brain cell between them.

Soul, after a pause, spoke for both of them: "Oops?"

“Hello, ocean!” 

The beach was not a common sight for the DWMA students. True, their missions took them all over the world--but every time they had to head back home to that city in the Nevada desert. 

“But today is a beach day!” 

Patty Thompson was shouting to no one in particular. While her classmates were still unpacking the van, she already had all the belongings she needed: towel, umbrella, floatie ducky innertube, phone, Bluetooth speaker, magazines, cooler full of ice and drinks--all of which she carried effortlessly, practically skipping across the sand. She was wearing sandals, a buttoned shirt, a straw beach hat, and jean shorts--and with her swimsuit already on underneath, she couldn’t wait to take them off and dive into the inviting blue ocean. 

As she ran forward, she shouted, “Nothing’s gonna get in my way!” 

Almost immediately her face collided with the sand. 

“Umph!” She lifted up her head, spitting out sand. “What the hell got in my way--” 

Her tirade was interrupted by her phone landing on her head, as it had flown out of her hands when she tripped. Then the speaker. Then the magazines. Clutching her banged-up head, she waved her hand to get the papers out of her eyes--before her towel slowly floated down and landed on her head. She let out an annoyed groan. That’s when the cooler finished the job, its corner practically lodging into her skull. She laid dead-motionless for a few seconds. 

Then came the scream: “AAAAARGG!” Patty growled, throwing the mess up into the air, fire in her eyes, pounding her fists against the sand like a child having a tantrum. “Who is responsible for this--” 

While she was still lying down on her belly, her now sandal-less left foot felt something. 

“Hmm?” 

Touch, touch. 

She shrieked. 

“IT’S A FURRY BEACH TARANTULA!” 

Patty was on her feet, armed with the beach umbrella, ready to stab it downward into the hairy threat--when she saw a round furry ball atop the sand. 

“Huh--how did I miss that?” 

She poked it again with her foot. 

“Hmm…” 

She nudged the ball a little harder with her foot. 

“MMMM!” she whined, before she just stepped on it, slamming the bottom of her foot down hard onto the ball--

A stream of water splashed right at her forehead. 

“EW! Spitting beach tarantula!” 

Patty wiped her face with the towel, then she had a realization: 

“Tarantulas don’t spit water.” 

That’s when the ball started to cough, revealing who he really was. 

She looked more closely at the furball--and her eyes widened in realization. 

"Hm hm hmm~! Oh!" After a few minutes, they finally came out of the cabin, ready for adventure. Well, at least Patty did.

"That's what I like to see! Now we can go to the amusement park and have fun!" It seemed Chopper wasn't too concerned with waiting for the others now that they had a meeting spot.

Without warning, a large, pink blobby monster landed in front of the van from the sky, causing the ground to shake as it loomed over them with a lovestruck and happy expression on its face. "Ogyoh? Ogyoh~!" It squealed excitedly before opening its mouth to try and eat the van, diving straight at it with little warning. Clearly, they were under attack. A voice could be heard laughing, a shrill, girly voice just behind the large creature.

"Ohohoho~! That's right, my precious Love-Love Monster~! Eat that silly toy and assert yourself~!" It was a young girl in a somewhat 20's themed magician outfit complete with a black hat, her long blonde hair blowing in the wind. "Hello, MY FRIENDS! Welcome to the Pixy Misa Magical Showtime~! To satisfy my hundreds of billions of fans across the world, I'm going to make this van disappear so please remove all valuables from the vehicle and give them to me~!" She seemed rather excited, holding one of her black-gloved hands out, causing as cane to poof into it like magic. As she twirled it around happily, it was clear to everyone involved what this girl probably was. A witch here to spread chaos and mayhem with this big monster she cooked up.

"Ogyoh~!" The monster took a big chomp at the van and tried to swallow it whole.

---

Chopper had already turned the ship in the direction of the Ferris Wheel when he heard some commotion, his eyes narrowing in disdain and sadness at the sight of a monster in the distance, not quite in the direction of the amusement park but instead behind their ship.

"Is this how a pirate would dress?" she had asked earlier.

But now that she looked alongside Chopper and spotted the van, she shouted: "What's that thing going after the van doing?!"

"Asking for directions?" Patty suggested.

Meanwhile, at the van--

"Shit!"

Soul spun the wheel to try to get away from the monster--but not before it bit a chunk out of the rear bumper.

"Hey!" Kid shouted. "If you're going to do that, take the whole thing!" He opened the back door to try to pull the now half-bitten bumper off, before Liz pulled him back into the van.

"Idiot!" Liz still had her arms around his waist. "That thing is trying to eat us and--" Liz then did a double take, shouted, "Monster!" and fainted.

Kid looked unamused. "So glad to see someone keeping their head on straight." Then he had a thought. "Oh, yes, we are not symmetrical now--"

Now Maka looked unamused as both Liz and Kid were passed out, stiff as corpses. "Super..."

“Hello, ocean!” 

The beach was not a common sight for the DWMA students. True, their missions took them all over the world--but every time they had to head back home to that city in the Nevada desert. 

“But today is a beach day!” 

Patty Thompson was shouting to no one in particular. While her classmates were still unpacking the van, she already had all the belongings she needed: towel, umbrella, floatie ducky innertube, phone, Bluetooth speaker, magazines, cooler full of ice and drinks--all of which she carried effortlessly, practically skipping across the sand. She was wearing sandals, a buttoned shirt, a straw beach hat, and jean shorts--and with her swimsuit already on underneath, she couldn’t wait to take them off and dive into the inviting blue ocean. 

As she ran forward, she shouted, “Nothing’s gonna get in my way!” 

Almost immediately her face collided with the sand. 

“Umph!” She lifted up her head, spitting out sand. “What the hell got in my way--” 

Her tirade was interrupted by her phone landing on her head, as it had flown out of her hands when she tripped. Then the speaker. Then the magazines. Clutching her banged-up head, she waved her hand to get the papers out of her eyes--before her towel slowly floated down and landed on her head. She let out an annoyed groan. That’s when the cooler finished the job, its corner practically lodging into her skull. She laid dead-motionless for a few seconds. 

Then came the scream: “AAAAARGG!” Patty growled, throwing the mess up into the air, fire in her eyes, pounding her fists against the sand like a child having a tantrum. “Who is responsible for this--” 

While she was still lying down on her belly, her now sandal-less left foot felt something. 

“Hmm?” 

Touch, touch. 

She shrieked. 

“IT’S A FURRY BEACH TARANTULA!” 

Patty was on her feet, armed with the beach umbrella, ready to stab it downward into the hairy threat--when she saw a round furry ball atop the sand. 

“Huh--how did I miss that?” 

She poked it again with her foot. 

“Hmm…” 

She nudged the ball a little harder with her foot. 

“MMMM!” she whined, before she just stepped on it, slamming the bottom of her foot down hard onto the ball--

A stream of water splashed right at her forehead. 

“EW! Spitting beach tarantula!” 

Patty wiped her face with the towel, then she had a realization: 

“Tarantulas don’t spit water.” 

That’s when the ball started to cough, revealing who he really was. 

She looked more closely at the furball--and her eyes widened in realization. 

"Huh. I wonder if Nami would've given some of her old clothes to those guys. Still, we'd need stuff for the others. Ah! I think some of Luffy's clothes would be perfect for Black☆!"

Chopper dialed Liz with a soft smile, using Patty's phone responsibly.

"Hey. It's me. I thought we should meet up at the beach with the amusement park boardwalk. I'll be there with the others for a few hours. And Patty's my sister now! I'll love her a million times better than you ever did! She's gonna choose if she likes being a pirate with me or being in school with you guys! Get ready!"

Patty, with bare shoulders, poked her head out the cabin window. "Did Sis step on a Lego?"

"Patty, you're not decent!" Tsubaki could be heard, pulling her back in.

Back on the road, the van swerved from Liz's shout before righting itself.

"Liz," Maka began, her pigtails blown forward by Liz's scream. "Soul needs to focus."

Soul's fingers were gripped so hard that they had put dents in the wheel. "If it's not books upside the head, it's screaming Brooklynites..."

"THAT FURRY BASTARD IS NOT TOUCHING MY SISTER!" Liz stuck her head out the van window. "I'LL TEAR YOUR ANTLERS OFF AND TAP-DANCE WITH 'EM!"

Back on the ship--

"Wouldn't that hurt the toes?" Patty asked.

"Unless they're like soft felt?" Tsubaki offered.

Back in the van--

"Did our new 'captain' say where to meet up?" Kid asked, still organizing their belongings. "I will feel more comfortable with twin pistols again."

Liz let out a huff. "Some boardwalk up ahead."

"Oh, with a ferris wheel?" Maka asked, pointing to one off in the distance. "It looks cute!"

Kid frowned. "I am not enthused, for various reasons," he said, Liz shivering from memories of a prior encounter at such a carnival. "Especially if the wheel stops anywhere but the very top!"

Elsewhere, Black Star was collapsed on his back. "No...more...flora..."

“Hello, ocean!” 

The beach was not a common sight for the DWMA students. True, their missions took them all over the world--but every time they had to head back home to that city in the Nevada desert. 

“But today is a beach day!” 

Patty Thompson was shouting to no one in particular. While her classmates were still unpacking the van, she already had all the belongings she needed: towel, umbrella, floatie ducky innertube, phone, Bluetooth speaker, magazines, cooler full of ice and drinks--all of which she carried effortlessly, practically skipping across the sand. She was wearing sandals, a buttoned shirt, a straw beach hat, and jean shorts--and with her swimsuit already on underneath, she couldn’t wait to take them off and dive into the inviting blue ocean. 

As she ran forward, she shouted, “Nothing’s gonna get in my way!” 

Almost immediately her face collided with the sand. 

“Umph!” She lifted up her head, spitting out sand. “What the hell got in my way--” 

Her tirade was interrupted by her phone landing on her head, as it had flown out of her hands when she tripped. Then the speaker. Then the magazines. Clutching her banged-up head, she waved her hand to get the papers out of her eyes--before her towel slowly floated down and landed on her head. She let out an annoyed groan. That’s when the cooler finished the job, its corner practically lodging into her skull. She laid dead-motionless for a few seconds. 

Then came the scream: “AAAAARGG!” Patty growled, throwing the mess up into the air, fire in her eyes, pounding her fists against the sand like a child having a tantrum. “Who is responsible for this--” 

While she was still lying down on her belly, her now sandal-less left foot felt something. 

“Hmm?” 

Touch, touch. 

She shrieked. 

“IT’S A FURRY BEACH TARANTULA!” 

Patty was on her feet, armed with the beach umbrella, ready to stab it downward into the hairy threat--when she saw a round furry ball atop the sand. 

“Huh--how did I miss that?” 

She poked it again with her foot. 

“Hmm…” 

She nudged the ball a little harder with her foot. 

“MMMM!” she whined, before she just stepped on it, slamming the bottom of her foot down hard onto the ball--

A stream of water splashed right at her forehead. 

“EW! Spitting beach tarantula!” 

Patty wiped her face with the towel, then she had a realization: 

“Tarantulas don’t spit water.” 

That’s when the ball started to cough, revealing who he really was. 

She looked more closely at the furball--and her eyes widened in realization. 

Chopper stared at Patty with a concerned frown on his face when she pulled a phone out from under her hat. "How is that thing not destroyed from all the times you went underwater?" He asked with a somewhat nervous chuckle before smiling at Jugemu. The monkey had already learned how to play Go Fish. He was shaping up to be a valued member of the crew.

"Do we actually need a change of clothes?" Tsubaki asked. "Can't we just wait for the van to catch up?"

"Pirate adventures always need new outfits, Tsubaki!" Patty shouted. "It's merchandisable!"

"What?"

"It helps with fanservice!"

"WHAT."

"Just get in the cabin and find something!" Patty shouted, pushing Tsubaki to the cabin.

Back at the van, Kid had a pair of binoculars.

"What're they doing now?" Liz asked.

"They seem to be crying. Also, I think Black Star is drowning."

"Hm. Real shame." Liz went back to filing her nails.

"Hang tight, Black Star!" Soul shouted, slamming his foot on the gas. "We're on our way!"

“Hello, ocean!” 

The beach was not a common sight for the DWMA students. True, their missions took them all over the world--but every time they had to head back home to that city in the Nevada desert. 

“But today is a beach day!” 

Patty Thompson was shouting to no one in particular. While her classmates were still unpacking the van, she already had all the belongings she needed: towel, umbrella, floatie ducky innertube, phone, Bluetooth speaker, magazines, cooler full of ice and drinks--all of which she carried effortlessly, practically skipping across the sand. She was wearing sandals, a buttoned shirt, a straw beach hat, and jean shorts--and with her swimsuit already on underneath, she couldn’t wait to take them off and dive into the inviting blue ocean. 

As she ran forward, she shouted, “Nothing’s gonna get in my way!” 

Almost immediately her face collided with the sand. 

“Umph!” She lifted up her head, spitting out sand. “What the hell got in my way--” 

Her tirade was interrupted by her phone landing on her head, as it had flown out of her hands when she tripped. Then the speaker. Then the magazines. Clutching her banged-up head, she waved her hand to get the papers out of her eyes--before her towel slowly floated down and landed on her head. She let out an annoyed groan. That’s when the cooler finished the job, its corner practically lodging into her skull. She laid dead-motionless for a few seconds. 

Then came the scream: “AAAAARGG!” Patty growled, throwing the mess up into the air, fire in her eyes, pounding her fists against the sand like a child having a tantrum. “Who is responsible for this--” 

While she was still lying down on her belly, her now sandal-less left foot felt something. 

“Hmm?” 

Touch, touch. 

She shrieked. 

“IT’S A FURRY BEACH TARANTULA!” 

Patty was on her feet, armed with the beach umbrella, ready to stab it downward into the hairy threat--when she saw a round furry ball atop the sand. 

“Huh--how did I miss that?” 

She poked it again with her foot. 

“Hmm…” 

She nudged the ball a little harder with her foot. 

“MMMM!” she whined, before she just stepped on it, slamming the bottom of her foot down hard onto the ball--

A stream of water splashed right at her forehead. 

“EW! Spitting beach tarantula!” 

Patty wiped her face with the towel, then she had a realization: 

“Tarantulas don’t spit water.” 

That’s when the ball started to cough, revealing who he really was. 

She looked more closely at the furball--and her eyes widened in realization. 

"Great job! We rescued our new mascot and Ninja Operations Manager!" The implication that a monkey would be involved in ninja work was a bizarre one. Chopper turned from those two to look down at the ones being left on the beach.

"Tsubaki! You need to have faith in our friends and think of a meeting spot! If they have their phones, we can go around and meet them somewhere without risking damage to the ship by fighting Dugongs!" Chopper spoke with stern affirmation, smirking as he felt like a real captain.

"I wonder if there are clothes in this ship. We can't have you guys fighting in swimwear all day or the crew will look silly." He was already calling them his crew, so it seemed they made the cut with the success of their monkey retrieval.

"We're not doing that."

"Come on, Maka," Soul said. "We just swing the fishing pole and pull Star out!"

"That is the dumbest thing I have ever heard! How would that even work?"

Back on Chopper's ship...

"Got any 2's?"

Jugemu tossed down a few cards.

“Hello, ocean!” 

The beach was not a common sight for the DWMA students. True, their missions took them all over the world--but every time they had to head back home to that city in the Nevada desert. 

“But today is a beach day!” 

Patty Thompson was shouting to no one in particular. While her classmates were still unpacking the van, she already had all the belongings she needed: towel, umbrella, floatie ducky innertube, phone, Bluetooth speaker, magazines, cooler full of ice and drinks--all of which she carried effortlessly, practically skipping across the sand. She was wearing sandals, a buttoned shirt, a straw beach hat, and jean shorts--and with her swimsuit already on underneath, she couldn’t wait to take them off and dive into the inviting blue ocean. 

As she ran forward, she shouted, “Nothing’s gonna get in my way!” 

Almost immediately her face collided with the sand. 

“Umph!” She lifted up her head, spitting out sand. “What the hell got in my way--” 

Her tirade was interrupted by her phone landing on her head, as it had flown out of her hands when she tripped. Then the speaker. Then the magazines. Clutching her banged-up head, she waved her hand to get the papers out of her eyes--before her towel slowly floated down and landed on her head. She let out an annoyed groan. That’s when the cooler finished the job, its corner practically lodging into her skull. She laid dead-motionless for a few seconds. 

Then came the scream: “AAAAARGG!” Patty growled, throwing the mess up into the air, fire in her eyes, pounding her fists against the sand like a child having a tantrum. “Who is responsible for this--” 

While she was still lying down on her belly, her now sandal-less left foot felt something. 

“Hmm?” 

Touch, touch. 

She shrieked. 

“IT’S A FURRY BEACH TARANTULA!” 

Patty was on her feet, armed with the beach umbrella, ready to stab it downward into the hairy threat--when she saw a round furry ball atop the sand. 

“Huh--how did I miss that?” 

She poked it again with her foot. 

“Hmm…” 

She nudged the ball a little harder with her foot. 

“MMMM!” she whined, before she just stepped on it, slamming the bottom of her foot down hard onto the ball--

A stream of water splashed right at her forehead. 

“EW! Spitting beach tarantula!” 

Patty wiped her face with the towel, then she had a realization: 

“Tarantulas don’t spit water.” 

That’s when the ball started to cough, revealing who he really was. 

She looked more closely at the furball--and her eyes widened in realization. 

Chopper transformed into his human form to better reach the sails, knowing he had to unfurl them in order to get the ship moving. With Patty and Tsubaki on the ship with him, the reindeer ran over to lift the anchor with his incredible strength, the wind now propelling the ship away with whoever made it on as the Queen Dugong and her underlings continued to give Black Star a bunch of flowers, only a few seeming to notice the ship leaving and the van gaining more passengers.

"But what about Black Star?" Tsubaki asked.

"I don't have bait for him, unless you want to get on the hook--"

"Thank you, Patty, no, that's fine!" Tsubaki waved her hands in front of her--before noticing the van driving on the road, following the ship. "And how are we getting them aboard, too?"

Meanwhile, Black Star was in the middle of a taste test.