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The Lunarian stood unmoving. It's a fair assessment that Mihawk might be disturbed with the doubleganger. According to all the reports and information, a death sentence was as simple as getting on his bad side. He's already calculated the nearest window, who would make the best meat shield, and the range of destruction projected— all within a mere glance of the room.

It doesn't come from a place of fear. He's being cautious.

The request is only met with obedience. He nods, reaching behind his shoulder to withdraw the mighty weapon and pull cool steel from the sheath.

She's held on a proud display on the palms of both hands. Yes, she's a clone, and the weapon didn't compare whatsoever to Yoru. There's no black fortifying the sword with raw power. She lacks the badazzle and flashy gems along the handle. Instead, there's simply white bandaging wrapped around to provide a better grip.

Apparently, a blade with a soul couldn't be produced. Unlike a child without one.

"Do not touch." S-HAWK states. There's nothing aggressive about his tone. He's rather calm and docile, but any swordsman knows how important treating their own sword is. It's a faithful relationship. Even if Yoru is far more impressive, he will not be caught gawking at another blade.

"Bakeneko." Neko, for short. For those savy in Japanese yokai, the name of this would be disturbing... particularly in the situation they were in. It's a mischevious ghost cat that was able to take on their master's appearance. In fact, they'd kill the hand that fed them and instead take on the host's life as their own.

To be honest; the name didn't come from any place of ill intention. The reasoning was simple.

He had encountered a wonderful creature in the labs. A black cat. Often, the fiesty feline would bite at his feathers and hiss, but rarely... with enough patience... and plenty of food. He'd be able to pet the little beast. It was a pleasant experience indeed. Already the best from his short manufactured life.

The thought of Neko becoming a certified black blade is a welcoming one. Yes, she deserved to be known as every pirate's worst nightmare, and he'd try all he could to complete the challenge.

It's... a little embarrassing taking gratification from the world's greatest swordsman. The humble flattery is nice. He can't help lowering his gaze at the ground, scuffing his shoe against the ground, and nodding in earnest.

"A swordsman's legacy lives through their sword. I will do anything to achieve her greatness."

After temporarily putting her on proud display, she's placed where she belongs— protecting down along his back.

S-HAWK couldn't help a conflicted squint in his eyes. Handler? He wasn't a pet. He had authority figures, sure, but the leadership gave him rather laxed commands. The mission would be completed with his own artificial solutions.

"I'm aware of the ruckus. I'll be accompanying you however you deem fit."

The boy couldn't help but blink away at Mihawk. The misconceptions are justified, he supposed, but he can't help questioning him with a flat tone. "—charge?"

He was no dog. He was also no battery.

His clothes feel lackluster compared to the other, but it's hardly important. As for eating... he'd devour only what he needed, even if it wasn't his favorite. He'd simply do what was necessary to survive.

"Oh, Hawkey, you certainly had a glow up from your youth! What an unsightly forehead, fufufu!" Doflamingo barked out his hideous laughter. He's comfortably laying back across the table, smiling from ear to ear, as he holds S-FLAMINGO above him like some deadly airplane.

"We should schedule a playdate! The two can play with knicknacks and what have you. I heard a certain hawk, gator, and flamingo were close friends during their ungoldly creation. Who are we to ruin friendship? Future kinship? Possible lovers?"

The seraphim couldn't be more disgusted. His frown trudged heavier along his face. That's far from the truth. He places a hand along Mihawk's sleeve to give it a light tug.

"And that nearly concludes today's meeting. Our last subject is the introduction from the world's most brilliant mind. Innovation.. technology. I'd like to show our state of the art cloning." The marine scientist rambled on and on upon deaf ears. Often, this is precisely how the warlord meetings would go. Only a few care to listen, most lounged, and one came along to pester the other victorious lords.

All in all, it's a waste of time, and a pathetic attempt of the government trying to keep treaties amongst thrives.

The man in a lab coat nervously pushed up his glasses before finally beckoning a hand.

"Here.. we'll begin with S-Snake. Come here,"

The atmosphere dropped in an eerie silence as metallic boots stepped into the room. The sight of the creature alone definitely brought something uncomfortable to linger. S-SNAKE, completely identical that of Boa, stood as a demonstration. She brought together her hands to form a heart before smiling all too sweetly. It would've been cute had this not been some sick experiment.

"We were able to take a DNA sample from all of you.. a mere drop of blood.. added Lunarian coding and a few adjustments of our own.. to create the most impressive human yet. The S in all their titles stand for Seraphim."

There was something about playing God that the goverment truly shouldn't do, but the man carries on.

"The idea was to create.. another you! Once we're certain of their stability, we plan to use them rather than you.. but please don't misunderstand! All of your immunity and peace will remain intact. If not more so, we will be able to rely on them rather than interrupt your time."

"They can taste without ever feeling hungry. They can bleed without feeling pain. Most importantly, they obey and only take their orders from designated individuals. In fact, they are on a mission now... and that's to observe you in your retrospective lives. Call it studying the source material up close. Memories aren't as easy as creating bodies are. All we ask is allow them to watch for a few days. You'll hardly notice them around."

Horrifying. Corrupt. Evil.

Even as the young creature stands beside her counterpart, it's all too.. odd, unspeakable. Boa does her best to take the initiative by offering her palm to the child. Surprisingly, a small hand rests within hers, and the little touch is enough to have her squeak. How cute she was!

Reactions vary as one by one come to interact. It feels like a surprise visit from a previously unknown and unwanted child... but the chemistry was there. Who knows you better than yourself?

The snakes were smiling, the bats were laughing, the sharks were more observant, and even the crocotilians put effort to eye one another.

The last to follow in suit was S-HAWK. Golden eyes thoroughly examined the room in a mere glance. He isn't very outgoing himself. The most he does is walk, stop nearside his counterpart, and look into the loud crowd. It's unpleasant. He doesn't like the noise, mainly caused by Doflamingo calling everyone hideous, looking children and barking out laughter like the devil he was.

He seems a bit focused on what he had considered an oddly comforting acquaintance of his. S-CROC was engaging just fine. He's touching that golden hook with morbid curiosity. An object the two could bond over.

And here's... him. Them. It's the most quiet introduction of them all. The boy turns his head towards Mihawk and stares. He isn't shy about it whatsoever. Those inhuman peepers are gawking outright. Star enchanced pupils are simply focused on the normal ones infront of him.

Not a word spoken, no touch to be had.

The Lunarian stood unmoving. It's a fair assessment that Mihawk might be disturbed with the doubleganger. According to all the reports and information, a death sentence was as simple as getting on his bad side. He's already calculated the nearest window, who would make the best meat shield, and the range of destruction projected— all within a mere glance of the room.

It doesn't come from a place of fear. He's being cautious.

The request is only met with obedience. He nods, reaching behind his shoulder to withdraw the mighty weapon and pull cool steel from the sheath.

She's held on a proud display on the palms of both hands. Yes, she's a clone, and the weapon didn't compare whatsoever to Yoru. There's no black fortifying the sword with raw power. She lacks the badazzle and flashy gems along the handle. Instead, there's simply white bandaging wrapped around to provide a better grip.

Apparently, a blade with a soul couldn't be produced. Unlike a child without one.

"Do not touch." S-HAWK states. There's nothing aggressive about his tone. He's rather calm and docile, but any swordsman knows how important treating their own sword is. It's a faithful relationship. Even if Yoru is far more impressive, he will not be caught gawking at another blade.

"Bakeneko." Neko, for short. For those savy in Japanese yokai, the name of this would be disturbing... particularly in the situation they were in. It's a mischevious ghost cat that was able to take on their master's appearance. In fact, they'd kill the hand that fed them and instead take on the host's life as their own.

To be honest; the name didn't come from any place of ill intention. The reasoning was simple.

He had encountered a wonderful creature in the labs. A black cat. Often, the fiesty feline would bite at his feathers and hiss, but rarely... with enough patience... and plenty of food. He'd be able to pet the little beast. It was a pleasant experience indeed. Already the best from his short manufactured life.

Already, whisps of smoke escape his lips in a silence sigh of grievance. Only one dared to interrupt his burdened schedule of paperwork. Crocodile remained hunched over the desk. His eyes didn't even bother to acknowledge the antsy lad.

"Hatchling," is the most he responds. It wasn't necessary for him to ask what the surprise visit was about. Luffy would always fill whatever silence with that big mouth. God, did that boy talk.. and talk.. and talk.

Usually, his words didn't manage to catch him off guard, but the sudden request had him absolutely baffled. Enough so that his papers lay to rest along expensive wood, his back pushes into the seat, and his eyes are now fully concentrated on him.

Why was raising a young rambunctious teen this difficult? He dreadfully missed when Luffy was much smaller, the size of a ball, and would happily coo in his arms. Why must babies grow? More importantly... why did he stop growing? The other wasn't intimidating at all. Small, short, compared to those in his genetic gene pool.

His thoughts aren't... completely invested in this fun trip idea. He's just listening to him ramble on and on. Ah las, it's the mumbling words that cause his brows to knit together; frustrated.

"How many times must we have this talk? Doesn't chasing your own tail become exhausting?" His hand rubs at his own face, an attempt to wipe off the settling irritation.

"You have everything you need and more here. You're allowed to travel this island as much as you'd like. I doubt you've explored every inch and corner of sand yet," Crocodile tries to reason upon deaf ears. The world out there was risky, unsafe. No place for his own kin to travel.

"I'm afraid sailing around for fun isn't in this life time of yours. My answer is no. And no, you're not doing it anyway. Now, go play with the banawani or something, they always enjoy your company."

Of course, he doesn't want him upset. It's far different than a smack on the hand for stealing from the cookie jar... this was about adventure.

And he's always known it'd come to this. Having one father as a bloodthirsty pirate and the other as.. a pathetic, useless, worm thing, marine. Both shared the devotion of the life on sea. And their kin was bound to desire that just as much.

Thank god Luffy hasn't eaten a devil fruit like the both of them.

"Yes...yes, I mean it, yes already."

Crocodile responds multiple times with flat eyes. Here comes the onslaught of questions. He can't figure out where the boy had gotten his talkative nature... or perhaps he did and refused to link the similarities to a very anti-pirate old man.

"A regular island.. a ship that floats.. You'll probably see fish." The most bland answers imaginable for the sake of trying to kill the hype. It won't matter. Luffy would probably ask again and again and... traveling on sea together suddenly seems like a torture sentence. Lord have mercy on his patience.

The embrace is abrupt but welcomed. It's enough to cause him to sigh off his coarse nature. His hand pats along the other's back in reassurance. This was nice... and maybe the trip would be an opportunity to bond.

"Pack for the heat. We'll be under the sun more than what you're used to." He advised. Hopefully, it gets through before the cheerful little lad goes bounding off. He watches him practically bounce off with pure joy. He, himself, needed to pack an entire crate of smokes just to put up with his energy.. and booze wouldn't hurt either.

As the sun began to dip, the preparations were well in order... all expect for one. A soft knocking beckoned upon Luffy's door. A soul too kind for her own skin.

"Luffy, have you finished packing yet? We're ready to depart soon." Robin spoke with her usual calm and collective manner.

Already, whisps of smoke escape his lips in a silence sigh of grievance. Only one dared to interrupt his burdened schedule of paperwork. Crocodile remained hunched over the desk. His eyes didn't even bother to acknowledge the antsy lad.

"Hatchling," is the most he responds. It wasn't necessary for him to ask what the surprise visit was about. Luffy would always fill whatever silence with that big mouth. God, did that boy talk.. and talk.. and talk.

Usually, his words didn't manage to catch him off guard, but the sudden request had him absolutely baffled. Enough so that his papers lay to rest along expensive wood, his back pushes into the seat, and his eyes are now fully concentrated on him.

Why was raising a young rambunctious teen this difficult? He dreadfully missed when Luffy was much smaller, the size of a ball, and would happily coo in his arms. Why must babies grow? More importantly... why did he stop growing? The other wasn't intimidating at all. Small, short, compared to those in his genetic gene pool.

His thoughts aren't... completely invested in this fun trip idea. He's just listening to him ramble on and on. Ah las, it's the mumbling words that cause his brows to knit together; frustrated.

"How many times must we have this talk? Doesn't chasing your own tail become exhausting?" His hand rubs at his own face, an attempt to wipe off the settling irritation.

"You have everything you need and more here. You're allowed to travel this island as much as you'd like. I doubt you've explored every inch and corner of sand yet," Crocodile tries to reason upon deaf ears. The world out there was risky, unsafe. No place for his own kin to travel.

"I'm afraid sailing around for fun isn't in this life time of yours. My answer is no. And no, you're not doing it anyway. Now, go play with the banawani or something, they always enjoy your company."

Congratulations, Luffy, nineteen was still considered a TEEN.

Crocodile dreads this debate between themselves every time. He can't exactly be honest as to why he's building sand castle walls around him. It was too much of a liability; a risk. Being sliced beneath the eyes and lacking one hand was merely an inconvenience if the boy ever became a target. He'd never be able to endure that pain... the pain of being a failure.

"You can come up as many excuses as you'd like. No."

He repeats, his voice firmer this time around, and his cold eyes suddenly sharpen into a glare. It's like talking to a wall.

"The world isn't as beautiful as the books illustrate. At your age, I would've killed for the luxuries you have. Whenever you're hungry, you're fed. Whenever you're tired, you have a bed to call your own. You should be more grateful!"

Yes, his tone climbs a bit louder than it should. Something he tries to keep at bay whenever he's around Luffy. It's difficult. His past wasn't exactly a fond memory to be reminded of. It's a cold, cruel time of thieving and murdering for the sake of berry... and enjoyment.

The most he can do at the moment is seethe in his seat. The large, golden hook is now pressing along the desk top.. idly scratching into the wood. He's gritting his teeth in pure irritation.

The backtalking, the arguing, the lack of respect a child should never show a parent.

For the longest moment he's just mean mugging him for his resilient attitude. Although, it's short lived, and somehow he's never felt this much of 'the bad guy' before.

If something were to happen to me...?

Was that a legitimate fear? Did Luffy truly expect him never to return from his usual insignificant trips? The threat of the waterworks has him caving. The large man finally stood, placing his cigar in the porcelain bowl, and moved to close the distance between them. He kneels, of course he must, in order to cut the height between them. He wants to offer him only a face to face can manage— sympathy.

"Don't even begin with the tears," It's a soft hearted threaten. Yes, he's many awful things, but a horrible father wasn't one he wanted on the list. Even if it puts him in an unfavorable dilemma. He sighs at the thought. Meanwhile, his large palm cups the other's cheek, and is already dragging a thumb underneath a watery eye.

".... you're right. It isn't very fair of me, is it? You crave what any other young adult would.. freedom, adventure, friendships." It's hard caving in like this, but it's all strategic. For one, he doesn't want a bawling child on his hands... and two, maybe giving him what he wants once would put an end to this delusion? Perhaps a planned fright would forever put him the animal back within safe, caged walls? If the world wasn't all rainbows and sunshine... there would be nothing to crave.

"Something I craved at your age."

"I'll be traveling tonight to attend another business meeting. The only issue is... that this island is far, far away. Days of sailing indeed. Will you be able to compromise on a longer trip instead?"

Already, whisps of smoke escape his lips in a silence sigh of grievance. Only one dared to interrupt his burdened schedule of paperwork. Crocodile remained hunched over the desk. His eyes didn't even bother to acknowledge the antsy lad.

"Hatchling," is the most he responds. It wasn't necessary for him to ask what the surprise visit was about. Luffy would always fill whatever silence with that big mouth. God, did that boy talk.. and talk.. and talk.

Usually, his words didn't manage to catch him off guard, but the sudden request had him absolutely baffled. Enough so that his papers lay to rest along expensive wood, his back pushes into the seat, and his eyes are now fully concentrated on him.

Why was raising a young rambunctious teen this difficult? He dreadfully missed when Luffy was much smaller, the size of a ball, and would happily coo in his arms. Why must babies grow? More importantly... why did he stop growing? The other wasn't intimidating at all. Small, short, compared to those in his genetic gene pool.

His thoughts aren't... completely invested in this fun trip idea. He's just listening to him ramble on and on. Ah las, it's the mumbling words that cause his brows to knit together; frustrated.

"How many times must we have this talk? Doesn't chasing your own tail become exhausting?" His hand rubs at his own face, an attempt to wipe off the settling irritation.

"You have everything you need and more here. You're allowed to travel this island as much as you'd like. I doubt you've explored every inch and corner of sand yet," Crocodile tries to reason upon deaf ears. The world out there was risky, unsafe. No place for his own kin to travel.

"I'm afraid sailing around for fun isn't in this life time of yours. My answer is no. And no, you're not doing it anyway. Now, go play with the banawani or something, they always enjoy your company."