61A/N
Have you guys seen the new chapters? Man, Oda's on fire.
Disclaimer: I don't own anything. I may have written this, but… well… shut up.
Year of Date: February 17th 1502
Location: Palace of Djinn, Mariejois
Oswald was six years old when he learned something utterly stupid about his own family.
It was well known within the higher echelon of the world that the Celestial Dragons feared and hated those with the middle initial of "D." He, of course, recognized it as soon as he connected the dots of what world he was in. That, and the fact that nobody would tell him what it stood for. Until his sixth birthday, that is - it apparently stood for "Devil," as told in a group lesson held on the subject between him and the rest of the child Celestial Douchbags.
That explanation didn't really sit well with him, though. It just seemed like something was missing. It didn't feel right; like he was being deliberately lied to, but the teacher believed every word.
Oswald remembered some of the theories on the initial from his past life. His favorite was the idea that it was a mere textual representation of the 'D' shaped smile that all with that initial carted around with them for their whole lives. They were all known for their smiles, after all. Exemplified by the fact that every 'D' that died in the series, died with a massive one on their face.
So, feared and hated, the middle initial was said to belong to individuals that upset the balance of their world. People who attacked the status quo and insisted upon their own "gluttony and greed." Cute, that - considering that was exactly Oswald's view of the Dragons. It was only right that their own overbearing egos would block out the sheer hypocrisy of it all.
However his family just had to be contrary to a fault. They did what they could at every turn just to differentiate themselves from the others. Granted it was all relatively small things, like eating devil fruits, or forcing their slaves to not smile where all the others forced them to smile.
That last 'tradition' was, in Oswald's humble opinion, just another excuse to cause more suffering. They explained it as a way to surround themselves in the misery of lesser life forms. "Doing the poor sods a favor by allowing them to actually feel something for once in their miserable lives," to quote his father. Where really, they were being the actual worst of the lot. Oswald was convinced that they legitimately got off on causing as much pain as physically possible.
Of course, if his family wasn't purely sadistic about it, allowing them to express their misery would have actually been a kindness. Other slaves would be forced to smile through their labor, through pain and torture, through every injustice that the Nobles inflicted upon them. Forced to pretend that they were happy, that this new life of theirs was a boon, and that they should be glad for the opportunity. There was sparsely any actual enjoyment they would find in Mariejois, so the threat of smiling was slim to none, unless forced upon them.
So did this make the Djinn's better than the others in some way? Not even in the slightest. Just one example was found with his brother, Brutus, whom had a favorite little game he liked to play. He would take a random slave and tell them to smile, however when they complied, he would shoot them in the kneecap. A punishment for disobeying the family rule. But then he would immediately tell them to smile again, and when they didn't, he would shoot them in the other kneecap for disobeying him. He would then make them crawl their own way towards the Sea-King fish tank, taking shots at their limbs to make the ordeal harder, and have them feed themselves to the fucking monstrous fish inside.
This was Fiona's most likely fate, however Oswald couldn't bring himself to ask. He couldn't help but hope that her suffering was short-lived, regardless of how unlikely that hope was.
Oswald truly hated his family. If he didn't personally make their deaths slow and painful when the time came, he would probably go crazy from the lack of proper vengeance. He often fantasized about the various ways he could accomplish such a task. They were giving him so many ideas as it was.
So what did they do this time, though? What made Oswald cringe at their stupidity as opposed to their constant dickery? Well, it turns out that his middle initial was a complete and utter lie.
Yep. The 'D' in his name was a total fabrication devised by his many-times great grandfather just a few years after the Void Century. It had no connection to classic 'D's at all.
According to the journal of said many-times great grandfather, it was meant as a way to further distance the Djinn family from the rest of the World Nobles. It definitely put the family on a flimsy pedestal at the time, but through the years it was just seen as a quirk of his kin. Just something that the other World Narcissists could smile and shake their heads at.
Originally, it was meant to inspire further fear in the Djinn name, however wide-spread knowledge of the initial was left out of worldly education. So the weight of it ultimately fell flat, but his kin still kept up the tradition out of some misplaced pride.
It was all just… so dumb.
But then again, perhaps it bred true for him? He wouldn't - couldn't know for sure, but he was damn sure that he would be upsetting the "status quo" sooner or later.
Year of Date: March 24th 1502
Location: Palace of Djinn, Mariejois - Djinn Grand Archive
"Hey, hey, hey! Oz! Look what I got!" The soft patter of Nicole's slippered feet ran up to him within the library.
The now six year-old had taken most of his time while not in his personal pool to read up on just about everything he could get his hands on. Lost knowledge in ancient languages, how to read said languages, histories of various kingdoms, arts of war and strategy, information on the various moons, Devil Fruit encyclopedias - basically every bit of knowledge that an utterly ancient family library could grant him. He wasn't exactly sure if one of the two - now dead - languages he learned in this time was what could be found on the Poneglyphs, but they both used a similar script of blocky characters that he could remember from the series. He searched high and low, but even his family's ancient archive had been wiped clean of anything from the Void Century. So he learned languages instead.
There was an exceedingly large number of them to choose from when he went looking to learn. This world was massive on a ridiculous scale compared to what he knew in his past life. There were more distinct nations on the first half of the Grand Line alone, than there was on the entirety of Earth. It was only at the founding of the World Government - hundreds of years before even the Void Century, that there was an effort to create a common tongue.
The two scripts he decided to learn were just the most similar to the one he remembered from the Poneglyphs, so that's where he focused. Both were relatively simple to learn, as a matter of fact. Languages in this world seemed to all derive from the same basic structure and speech. He didn't have to spend time re-learning anything, and just had to pair the vocabulary with what he already knew.
Something was obviously off with all of this, though. Distinct cultures, with distinct origins will logically come up with distinct ways to express themselves. Language was just the most prominent vehicle of this. So, he was either getting really lucky with this whole language thing on this planet - English being the primary tongue was an unexpected gift, where if he had to guess, it should have been Japanese - or something more existential was going on that he didn't want to think about.
Oswald blinked away from the book he was reading - an excerpt from a De Vici-esque engineer from 300 years ago - and looked to his sister.
Nicole D. Djinn was four years old now, and was the shining pink light at the end of the tunnel for just about everyone that lived in the Palace. She wore a rather extravagant - though less obnoxious than the rest of his kin - set of pajamas, a little pony-tail, and large bunny slippers. All of which, including her hair and eyes, were a bright hot pink.
A little over a week ago for her fourth birthday, she had been brought into the Devil's Vault to select her fruit, and like all the current generation of the Djinn children, zeroed in on one of them immediately. Oswald had followed his father and sister into the vault to offer some support, but it was hardly needed. Nicole had read the name of the Pink-Pink Fruit, and gobbled it up before he or his father could walk up to her.
Oswald didn't know it was possible to completely block out the taste of a Devil Fruit in place of pure excitement, but Nicole didn't even register the foulness of it. To this day, she would still become confused whenever anyone brought up the rotten flavor of the fruits.
Nicole was a miracle within the hell that was Mariejois. Still tiny and excitable - despite the horrors that she had to witness - she was kind to a fault. She, like Oswald, had never hurt any of the non-Dragons that could be found around the place. Be they slave, marine, foreign dignitary, or otherwise, she was kind, polite, and happy. One might imagine that she would be desensitized to it all, especially since she had literally grown up with it, but if Oswald did one thing correctly as an older brother, it was that he protected his sister.
The Djinn family learned to not pull their shit in front of her, or cause her distress, else risk the wrath of their second youngest.
You might be wondering what that would look like, as Oswald couldn't currently risk causing actual direct pain to his relatives at this point in time.
Well, the first time it was exercised, was in response to the loss of Fiona. Brutus might have gotten the last laugh in that exchange, but that was only because Oswald wasn't laughing.
It started off slow. Brutus found himself alone in hallways, corridors, and just about every room in the massive Palace of Djinn. He would wander around for hours until it started to get dark, before fleeing to his room in child-like fear. After the first day, he immediately sought out their father to see what was going on, but found his office and rooms empty. Everywhere he looked, he found nobody. He couldn't even leave the Palace, either, as the grounds were so large that a fat piece of shit like him didn't have the energy to go anywhere at distance with his own two feet.
It was on his third day of being utterly alone, having eaten nothing but his own body-produced cake, that Oswald's uncompromising self was heard walking down the halls. A look of loathing, disgust, and anger stopped Brutus from approaching, even in his solitude.
Just a hint as to why this was happening to him.
Brutus, as much of a cunt as he was, wasn't actually stupid. He put together why this was happening, but it still continued for another three days. Which is when Oswald found him again.
The older brother had been curled up in the empty Grand Hall, crying and eating his left index finger, when Oswald put a sea-stone covered hand on his brother's shoulder.
This had the disturbing effect of canceling Brutus's Logia body, at the exact time of his bite. Oswald had simply stood there, his hand on his brother's shoulder, and a countenance filled with contempt, for a full five minutes before calling for help.
Brutus permanently lost a finger that day, and Oswald didn't even get punished for it. He had simply walked up to his "big brother" to ask why he was crying in a corner, after all.
The worst of it, in Brutus's mind, was that his parents didn't even notice their oldest son's disappearance. They may say that they love their family, but Oswald was adamant that they had no idea what that meant. They also had no idea what Brutus was talking about when he claimed the slaves had vanished from the Palace, as everyone else had seen them around as normal.
Oswald's blank, innocent smile at that time had struck fear into his brother's heart for a number of years after that. One can seemingly alter reality when he is friends with the "help," after all. Never discount the rage of those on the bottom rung, for they will toil under the midnight oil to return the favor. Oswald had simply organized it.
Both his mother and father had been subjected to his "tantrums" as well, though to a less psychologically scarring extent. One instance against his father left him publicly "buying" a large sum of Sea-Stone, and coating his fathers entire office in it. One step inside left him unable to move for two days until one of the non-slave butlers found him.
"Hey Nikki." He smiled down at her. "One of the nice Marines get you something again?"
"Mhm!" She nodded rapidly, her hands hiding something behind her back as she rocked back and forth on her heels. "It was Sven this time!"
Oswald closed his book after marking the page. "Sven? Is he the one that gives you cookies, or was that Charles?"
"No!" She shook her head. "That's Sally from the kitchen. Come on! Guess!"
"I thought I just did? I suppose cookies aren't a good enough guess, then?"
His little sister just pouted and groaned at him. "You suck at this, Oz."
"Oh just tell me, you little munchkin."
"Ugh, fine!" She held her arms out, and in her hands was a massive, pink bunny plushie.
How did she hide that behind her back? It was nearly bigger than her.
Oswald blinked. "Woah! Sven's really spoiling you lately, isn't he?"
"Well duh. He likes me more than you."
Oswald clutched his heart in mock pain. "Right in the heart, sis."
She huffed, clutching her new plushie. "Don't be damadic-"
"Dramatic."
"-the kitchen people let you sneak extra sweets all the time!" She soldiered through his interruption.
"That's because I help them cook sometimes." He gave her a wry smile. Oswald had been a four - nearly five - star chef in his past life, and he enjoyed it immensely. Any time he could sneak himself into the massive Djinn Palace kitchens, he did.
One might think that made him the most qualified chef in the palace, but that just wasn't the case. Nearly everyone here with a tall, poofy chef hat was a better cook than he. The world of One Piece was just far more varied than Earth, meaning there were more dishes and ingredients to be found than anything he could have imagined. Not to mention these chefs were world class, as the Celestial Dragons would accept nothing less.
He had learned more from them in one year, than he had in his entire previous lifetime with the art.
Nicole cocked her head to the side cutely, clutching her new plushie tighter. "So all I have to do to get more sweets is help make the sweets?"
Oswald smiled. "Well you then run the risk of making sweets that you don't like."
"But you make really good ones! I bet I can make even better ones!"
"Well, I don't know, I spent a lot of time learning how to make all of that."
Nicole frowned, then a metaphorical lightbulb appeared above her head. "Then you can teach me!"
Oswald tilted his head and hummed dramatically. "Teach? You?"
His sister squinted at him. "Are you saying I won't be able to learn?"
He shrugged with a smirk. "Maybe." He drawled.
She stomped her foot and pointed at her brother. "I'll make better sweets than you ever could!"
Oswald stood up and put his hand on his sister's head. "Well, why don't we get started then?"
Nicole blinked out of her outrage. "Right now?"
"No time like the present, right?" Oswald grinned.
Her whole face lightened up like the sun, grabbed his hand off her head, and dragged him straight out of the room.
Oswald chuckled the whole way out.
A/N
In the future, this will likely be the chapter length. There will be no schedule for this. I am slow. I have not given up on this. I have a very lengthy outline for this story that covers everything, and a mix between no time to write, and rampant laziness.
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