Runch listened as Boone spoke of a "rare log" he had never heard of before. Apparently normal compasses weren't going to work in the Grand Line? He had no idea! Then again, none of them had checked since arriving. What with the excitement of nearly crashing into one another, then celebrating their meeting, Runch hadn't even given it a thought! He glanced to Hachirou, faithful navigator, and tilted his head quizzically. The muscular man gave pause in his squats long enough to read his captain's expression perfectly. He pulled out a compass, raised an eyebrow at the needle spinning around uncontrollably, then nodded back to Runch as he put the compass away.
"It seems you are right; our compass isn't working here. Well then, I'd say our meeting was a stroke of fate! Omnomnom!" The Cereal Killer's laughter bellowed across the galley. That's when Bonesword demanded his sword back from Dr. Ken, and Dirk even tried to swipe the gourd full of alcohol!
The drunken doctor gave no indication that he had even heard Dirk's approach, and in fact didn't react in any way whatsoever as the drink had been snatched up from his hand. Boone clumsily attempted to stop his helmsman, but it was for naught: Dirk successfully disposed of the beverage. Boone was quite upset, but Ken still gave no indication he had even noticed. Then, a full ten seconds later, he finally reacted.
"Hm? Oh shorry, here'sh yer-hic-toothpick." He handed the Shroomblade over tothe Bonesword on the left, completely missing the hand of the Bonesword in the middle who was the real one. Still the doctor gave no indicator his drink had been lifted right out of his hand.
Feya suggested that they celebrate not with alcohol, but with fruits and vegetables. At this notion the Krunch Krew's doctor became... Agitated. He tumbled out of his chair, accidentally tossing a number of bowls and spoons with him, all landing right on his face. Despite now having several very large lumps, he felt no pain.
"Uh-uh, nosh, I alwaysh carry me-hic-grog!" And with that he produced a second gourd full of highly potent, potentially lethal, alcohol from... Uh... Where exactly did that stuff come from? Well, wherever he got it, he had it out now and was in the process of toasting.
"To new-hic-friends! Glugluglugluglugluglug!" Even the man's laughter sounded suspiciously like the gulping of drinks!
"Friggin' stowaway," Smith muttered in a half-joking tone.
"Omnomnomnom! Well I don't see any reason why we can't all get what we want! Our unofficial doctor here is always happy to share his sin with anybody who likes! Don't ask me where it comes from, though." The captain gave a mighty shrug, stronger than any shrug to come before it. It practically caused a ripple of confusion in and of itself.
"And if fruits and veggies are your thing, I have eight different incredibly healthy recipes ready to go any time! Omnomnomnomnom!" Runch threw out his hands and a stream of multi-colored cereal pellets spewed forth in every direction. Trickshot Jo yelled at him from up in her hammock, but her derisions went largely ignored and unnoticed.
The celebration went on for another two hours. In that time the two crews were able to learn a great deal about one another, or at least their personalities. Despite being a ninja, Smith was not the quietest of the crew. In fact once he opened up, it was difficult to get the guy to shut the hell up! Everything out of his mouth was some sort of joke or wisecrack, often at the expense of someone else. He really had a sarcastic sense of humor. Hachirou definitely spoke the least of everyone. The whole time they celebrated he must have said less than ten words, and when addressed directly always answered in the most efficient, shortest way possible. Sometimes even a gesture was all he mustered in response. Yet the entire time the navigator of the Krunch Krew never stopped exercising, whether it be squats, push ups, sit ups, chin ups, and any other manner of activity. He kept this up even when it came to the karaoke portion of the party! Joanne on the other hand, she was a puzzle. She kept participating and interacting with everyone, but every time she was addressed the badger took to flinging insults and names and using a strange form of language nobody was quite sure how to understand, with heavy use of alien words like "honky" and "sass," as well as "bust a cap in yo ass." Whatever any of that meant. As for the ship's doctor, Wutong Ken, he was a complete and utter mess. He wreaked a foul stench at the best of times, and had a far worse odor he would regular expel from within his body, usually in the form of highly inappropriate burps and farts. He seemed to mishear every other word and in general was very delusional, but apart from all that the guy seemed to be really nice and friendly.
Then of course there was the ship's captain. Bartholomew K. Runch, "The Cereal Killer" was his wanted poster read. An older man, probably in his mid-forties, with the spirit and enthusiasm of a child under ten. He was the life of the party to be sure, eager to please, try new things, and have as much fun as he could. When others were feeling hesitant in any way, he was the first in line to give a little push of encouragement. The man seemed physically incapable of going more than two sentences without his signature laugh, almost as though a lack of joy would kill him or something. Yet he was also a gracious and rational host, listening to any concerns his guests had with genuine concern, and when it was time to wrap the party up, he was the one to call it all off.
Two ships sailed along the Grand Line on a beautiful sunny day. Leading the way was the Rum Runner, with the Guppy not too far behind. Just as the clockmaker had promised to Captain Boone, the log pose pointed in a single direction which decidedly was not north. Whenever the ship drifted slightly off course, the needle adjusted so that it remained pointing at the same exact location. Yet his regular compass just kept spinning circles in an endless loop. The Grand Line, it truly was remarkable.
The journey to the Rum Runner's first stop didn't take too long. A short hour and a half marked the sighting of the first land they would see in this miraculous ocean. A somewhat
small island sat in their path, a large castle dominating the majority of the landmass. From so far out it didn't appear to have much going on, at least not in terms of smaller local sailing vessels. However as they approached, a single object became more and more clear.
A flag hung prominently at the top of every tower in the castle. A black flag with the image of a cannon going off, which for some reason had two bulky and strong arms flexing. A Jolly Roger.
