Prepare for Trouble

“Hi. So.. About yesterday…”

“Hey, so I’m the one who hit you with my bike yesterday.”

“I would really love to see you again ;)”

“I did like you said. I’ve dumped the body into the river outside the city.”

“I’ve found you bitch. Now you’re gonna pay.”

“Hi. I know that we haven’t really talked before, but your friend gave me this number.. and I just wanted to say that I think you look very beautiful and I would love to go out with you some time. Would you give me honor?”

“Mom, I’m lost somewhere downtown. Can you pick me up?”

“I want to try out some kinky stuff with you baby.;))”

“Is.. is this the person who was at the bar last night? You’ve left your wallet.”

“Do you ever wonder what it would be like if ants were human size?”

“I’ve got the money.”

“Girl… let me tell you what happened last night. You’re NOT gonna believe this!”

“Call the police. I think someone’s in my house.”

“How’s it going beautiful?;)”

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                  RP Blog for Red-Haired Shanks and the Red Hair Pirates                                 ft. five canon characters and three OCs

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Well the guilt of that kind of thing really did weigh on his conscience. Listening to her story, it felt like the kind of tale you’d tell a kid that ends with a happily ever after, but this wasn’t that part! This was the top of the story that causes the rest of the story to roll out. Not that he’d consider that fact to mean it might be a lie. No, he ate it up. She certainly wouldn’t have been the first person to have such poor luck, only to run into him and tell him about it. She wouldn’t be the last, either….

Once done, he would quickly shuffle past her, to take his place behind the sink and wash his hands quickly, opposed to her. It just kept spinning in his head that he should do something to help her. If anyone, he was the one in a position to do so… Not to mention, it was his job to make sure that Alola was a nice place. Somewhere people felt happy and comfortable, a vacation destination that was like a dream. So after he was done, he went out and pulled his small notepad out, quickly writing on it, and forking over the page.

“I’m sorry to hear about your run of bad luck, Musashi. We all have rough bouts every once in a while, but it sounds like you and your friends have really been having a go of it.” He motioned to the paper, and smiled at her. “Here. This is a note to give to the Hano Grand Resort. I want you to give it to the person behind the counter; it’s signed by me, saying I’ll gladly pay for your whole stay, and anything else you do at the casino. Within reason, of course.”

He really was a hero. It was easy to tell by the look on his face that he took her words to heart. He took in her story. And no, it wasn’t a lie. She wouldn’t delve into that stuff for a lie (well, she would, but not this time). But it wasn’t often that she led with her sob story. Often that came last as a way to guilt people into letting her get away with things. 

Of course, she could use that in the future still. But right now she watched him soak in her story of hunger and abandonment. A poor woman, left to fend for herself by the hand that fate dealt. 

Oh, she really was a truly tragic character, wasn’t she? Well, sure, Jessie was- but now she was playing Musashi. A sweet girl who suffered by the hand of fate.

She would be lying if she said she didn’t expect him to do something for her to help lighten her load (as told by her story). But when she saw the note her eyes widened just a bit. A hero. Of course he’d give her something like this. He’d pay for her? How kind. Very kind. 

She’d be indebted to him. She took the note, looking over it. Suddenly her mind was reeling. She could take this, take the spot. James and Meowth and her, they could truly be fed. Housed. A bed! Oh, when was the last time she slept in a bed? With sheets? Warm, not cold in the middle of the night trying not to cuddle with your platonic-but-you-want-more best friend? He was a hero. He wouldn’t hold this over her, would he?

The woman wasn’t sure when they started, but when she realized the tears coming from her eyes weren’t from her own stellar performance but from reality, she quickly looked away, “Thank you. Truly this is... very kind.” 

Jessie is definitely the fire to his oil. For all that James is walking trouble, is their foil, their bottlecap on top of that fizzy drink, keeping it from spilling– 

Jessie and Meowth are like an explosion. For all of their partner in crime moments, of pushing the envelope when James holds them back with caution and logic, they are a storm. 

And the storm is about ready to break. They’ve had too many streaks of failure without something positive to tide them over, to float them along. The boss looms like a cloud of despair and uncertainty (and danger, not that he’ll admit…) instead of that triumphant stature, of glorious purpose. 

So the bough breaks. Her words are barbs to his throat, to his heart– The feline reels back as if punched in the gut, his eyes wide. 

A grenade pin dropping in there could save this conversation better than any words in the future.

“You’d….?” It isn’t certain whether he’d intended to finish that thought. Or what he would finish it with. ‘You’d replace me’ or ‘you’d say that to me’.

He thought she understood.

Her arms were crossed. She knew what she had said. She could see in him the impact it had made. Immediately, her heart began to sink. There was a line, she crossed it.

But no, she wouldn’t admit that. She couldn’t let go of her pride. She turned away from him, not wanting to look into those eyes. She hurt him. She knew that. 

Just yell at me, Meowth. How she wanted him to just let her have it. Say something as nasty back - comment about her hair. Her face. Her earrings. Comment about how she never found a man who wanted to be with her for more than a day. Point out how many flaws she had - she flunked out of so many things. He could pick anything. Take the knife she had stabbed him with and stab her back. 

It was only fair. 

She needed to say something to him. Apologize? No. She couldn’t. It wasn’t all her fault. They were arguing. This was an argument. They were going to be okay later. Just not now. 

“What’s the matter?” She spoke and she knew the venom was coming back, “Cat’s got your tongue?”

Chopper was surprised to find that this woman awoke so quickly. She seemed tough to have minor injuries after what he could only conclude was a cataclysmic fall from the sky. His crew often got beaten up and shook off serious injuries to ordinary people, but this woman was no Straw Hat pirate.

“I did.” He replied with an awkward chuckle, finding it amusing that she had another friend named Meowth. Perhaps the thing was also a small animal like Chopper. “You should recover fully within the week. You heal fast, don’t you?”

It... It spoke? What the hell was this thing? Was it giving her medical advice? She kept her gaze on the creature. It was definitely not human. It was fuzzy. It seemed useful - at least by a medical point of view. Could it fight? Was it a new species of pokemon? 

Oh, it could be one of those legendaries that kept popping up! Definitely didn’t look like a shiny of any pokemon she knew. So she did about the only thing she could think of. 

Meowth would normally have the decency to flinch at her tone, to scuttle back and get out of her way. But this is not one of those times, not with the anger that thrums across the tips of his paws, supercharged. 

He’d normally say something crass and back off, demure to that acid tone of hers, ready to erode him into nothing.

But not today. Today he’s moved by that thundershock, he’s furious and bitter and–

and hurt. The audacity she has to say that! As if she hadn’t messed up too!

“Maybe if you could find your head outta all that hairspray you’d be able to give straight orders. Ya ever consider that? Or were ya too busy looking at yourself in the mirror?”

The feline prowls over, knocks things over like his pure cat instincts demand in times of boredom, of frustration– 

“I did have the work while you sat around! I can wreck whatever I want.”

There was something in his eyes. They were both operating on fury and thin patience. It wasn’t his fault that she was so angry, she knew that. It wasn’t entirely his fault that everything went to shit. The complicated spiral of events that led them to this point - it was both of their faults. Of course, Jessie would never admit her part in it. And she had a feeling - if she knew anything about this cat- that he wouldn’t either. 

He wasn’t backing down. He wasn’t scuttling away with his tail between his legs. And neither would she. James ran away and hid (of course, the sensitive man would), but she was a fighter. Meowth too. 

In most situations, she respected Meowth. The cat pokemon clawed his way from nothing, gave himself the immense ability to speak, and still hung out with people like her and James. He was her friend. And that was really all there was to that. 

But also, he was the oil to her fire. Or she was hers to his. She wasn’t sure entirely which way that metaphor worked best.

As he raged to her she growled, snapping back, “Well work more on yourself, you useless Meowth! If you didn’t waste your time gabbing you could have used payday or something to make us rich! Or at least not freaking half starved! Or been something useful, like a persian!” 

“MUSASHI! YOU’RE IN THIS TOO?!” He’s hit with the egg and lets out an exasperated sigh. “All right. Fine. You earned that point. BUT HERE’S ONE FOR YOU!”

“Ha! You missed!” She grinned, “And it’s a good thing too! If you hit the poor broke orphan girl, what kind of asshole would you be?” 

“Well that’s an interesting predicament…”

“How did you get yourself there?”

“Care to share how you wound up in this situation?”

“I don’t want to talk about how or why I’m here, just help.”

“You have a thoughtful look on your face.”

“You’re looking a little spacey.”

“I could elaborate, but I won’t.”

“Can you explain this to me one more time?”

“I have questions, and I doubt you have answers to them.”

“I don’t think any amount of explanation is going to save whatever headache this is giving me.”

“I don’t need to explain anything.”

“I could tell you what happened, but you will not believe me.”

“I would like to claim plausible deniability.”

“Nothing you say is going to make this any better.”

“I put a lot of thought into this.”

“I didn’t think this through.”

“I thought about this a lot and it still came out like this.”

“Sometimes I just need a quiet place to think.”

“You really thought this all out?”

“It’s difficult to have a spare moment to myself these days.”

“You look suspicious.”

“I have no idea what you’re referring to.”

“Do you just stare while you think?”

“You have a thoughtful look about you, something up?”