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@chillin-at-partys-bar
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RP Blog for One Piece, some OCs, and a crossover character
☀ 21+ mun ☀ 17+ years rp experience ☀ Selective ☀ ☀ OCs welcome ☀ Crossovers welcome ☀ Please message to plot ☀ ☀ Roleplay ☀ Drabbles ☀ Headcanons ☀ One-Shots ☀
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((Apologies for vanishing. Hope all is well! Working on getting stuff organized for moving! I've been missing talking to everyone so hmu if you're around. Also working on a new op cosplay so I hope I can get pics of that up soon!))
Hinoka listens patiently as the Marine continues on, nodding occasionally as she takes note of the various traits of this friend of his. The doctor understands too well the horrors and atrocities that one could see while being in the Marines--she'd been one herself after all.
"I see, well it's very clear that you hold this woman in very high regard," The redhead smiles warmly before taking a breath and pressing a finger to her lips in thought.
"Well, a green-tea base would be a good start, gives energy but not nearly as much as an earl grey and is much lighter on the palate. Perhaps mint somewhere in the mix for that small moment of relaxation and refreshing without being overpowering..."
Now the redhead is speaking more to herself than to the Marine at this point, looking through various canisters and gently smelling the contents before she would put them away and continue on. Her head tilts towards Smoker, looking at him from over her shoulder. "Does she have any fruits she likes? Mn, what about a little bit of orange peel and peach?"
What was Hina like? Smoker’s hands are deep in his pockets as he thinks about it. The woman worked plenty hard. “Certainly she doesn’t need more energy. Honestly getting her to take a break is impossible, no matter how much she needs one.”
And their job, well, the stress was always something to look out for. The worry over each other. The silent fears and acceptance that you may be saying farewell to a friend for the last time whenever you part.
“Maybe something she can relax with and enjoy with someone else. This job gets kinda… well, rough. And she needs to look after herself as much as she looks after others. I know she likes strawberries. And champagne. No caffeine. She drinks coffee. She also smokes. But not many of us don’t these days.”
"Could be worse. You could end up lookin' like me."
He sneers, showing off his scarred side, but backs off. There's noticeable tension in her frame, which isn't exactly an unusual reaction to his presence, though it could be more than just that. He doesn't question it though, people have their own personal shit to deal with and it's not his problem as long as it doesn't stop them from doing their damn job.
"Better get used to it. You chose a pirate's life, and that means you're lucky if you walk away from a fight with just a few scratches." He sighs. "I ain't a doctor. If they're still bothering you when we get back to the ship, then get your ass to the infirmary. Talk to Hip or Quincy if you don't wanna deal with the guys. They'll help you out."
Chose a pirate’s life? She could almost laugh at the thought. She hadn’t had a choice in her life since she was a child and chose which shape of snow to eat for dessert. But she wasn’t going to say any of that. No one gave a shit whatever with whatever sob story she brought up. Her life sucked, everyone else moved on, her catching a break was a pipe dream at best and a false hope at worst.
But his backing off didn’t go unnoticed. Like the scarred man before her actually noticed her unease and didn’t choose to exploit it for his own amusement. Already he was better than those she had met in the gang. Not the giant criminal organization. Just the regular gang before that criminal organization.
“I’ve had some evidence to suggest I might be close to indestructible,” she huffed, “unfortunately.” But then she sighed, still not sure how much of her weak luck she wanted to push. She’d save her comments on it and on her tendency to survive stupid shit. “Thank you, by the way. For a pirate you aren’t total dick, which is a good thing. And the scars are pretty sick.”
@chillin-at-partys-bar Top shelf stuff I suppose? Whiskey? Rum?"
Typically black cage preferred a bar so bustling to the point she hadn't the need to worry about the mingling of pirates during off hours. It was easy to ignore those that went against the law when a place was so full of people one couldn't easily discern pirate from anyone else. But that was always the problem with the type of sleepy islands pirates like the Red Haired crew enjoyed, wasn't it?
She'd rather not have to deal with them at all- on or off hours- Hina didn't have a problem with his type. Shanks was but a lazy drunkard in comparison to the types the special operative was known for taking in. As long as he wasn't going around murdering civilians, she could care less what dive he had chosen for his crew to stink up.
Shanks didn't need to know that though. For all he knew she could have entered the bar with the intent to get her cage around him the moment he stepped from the bar stool to take a piss. Not until she lit a fresh cigarette did Hina offer the man a sidelong glance. “Make it the whole bottle and I won't let my men know where you're holed up this evening when I return.”
“Yes ma’am.” There was no hesitation. The price wasn’t an issue and if it would keep the atmosphere jovial and ensure his crew a safe passage out (or a safe night from the Marines) then that was more than fair. Not that he would count on her word too much, what was a promise made to a pirate? Though he certainly knew some Marines kept their word, he wasn’t entirely sure her philosophy when dealing with his kind.
And on top of that, creating conflict was far from his desires. While he enjoyed a fight as much as the next person, he preferred friendly sparring to anything cutthroat. The kind of fights that started with wicked, witty words and ended with alcohol and laughter. And a fight with a Marine like her would probably fall more into that first category he hoped to avoid.
But just because he wished to avoid conflict didn’t mean he wished to avoid all contact. As the bartender got her bottle of top-shelf drink and he ordered himself a top-up of his rum, he gave her a friendly smile. “What brings you to this little dive bar?” He hadn’t been as subtle as was probably wise for someone like himself, but he doubted that was the reason she was there. Despite how silly it felt to him, he was confident that the Marines wouldn’t see him as the kind who could be taken down by just one Marine, regardless of her capabilities.
She could cure the poison but that felt risky to try, it would open up the possibility of questions she doesnt necessarily want to answer. At least she could subtly keep tabs on his status through touch, and he seemed healthy enough to fight off the effects in due time. It just probably wouldnt be very pleasant later. Her brow twitches at the comment about killing the bandit, "Could have, should have, but it's a moot point now that he's escaped. He'll reap what he sows one day regardless." Hopefully sooner than later, though Thea is not of any mindset to go hunting the rabble herself. She'll leave that to the professionals.
The bandages are removed when the blood has slowed to a trickle, replaced instead with a cloth dampened from her water bottle to clean away any excess debris. She's focused on her task but able to keep the conversation flowing easily, "There is a shortage of kindness in the world, or it seems that way sometimes. Desperate people do stupid, dangerous things to others and they think there is little incentive to kindness and compassion." Now a swab of alcohol, as Thea works from a portable basic first aid kit she carries with her.
A needle and suture is taken in hand next, "Just wanted to be certain, I'm not a licensed medic or anything, so I have nothing to calm frazzled nerves for anyone afraid of needles." The twinge of her needle piercing flesh to begin closing the slash, "I'd say this is an unconventional way to meet, but I've stitched up plenty of strangers in my days so, nice to meet you Beck. I'm Thea." Soft and pleasant in her speech, and either unaware or uncaring for the possibility he was a pirate.
The feeling of the needle stitching him back up was familiar. It pinched and poked a little, naturally, but he wasn’t about to whine about it. This wasn’t the worst injury he had received, and he was sure he’d get banged up further in the future. Just because he was an old pirate didn’t mean he avoided action. “Eh, my ship’s medic is probably not licensed either. He’s just the only one of us who can stomach caring for some of the troubles we get ourselves into.”
Despite the joking at Hongo’s expense, he did value the man’s skills. They often teased Hongo about his questionable medical training, but he waved them off with idle threats to leave them dying on the battlefield next time. He never followed through with those threats, and he hadn’t lost a patient.
Her comments on kindness resonated with him. He could only sigh. “Very wise words. So many people seem to think the only way to be heard is to hurt.” In that truth though was the center of what he truly loved about his crew. Maybe his pride would show as he spoke, but dammit, you don’t devote your life to something you weren’t fucking proud of. “My captain though… see, he’s got this reputation. For those who don’t know him, they might say he’s a dangerous man. He could be, if he wanted to. He can be, if you threaten us – his family and friends.”
“But in truth he’s the kindest person on the seas. He’d give you his last coin if you needed it. The government is scared of the power he’s got, but he’s got that power because those who know him, like him. It’s no sorcery or intimidation. Just unreserved compassion.” He paused a moment before sighing. “Forgive my rambling.”
He could feel all eyes slowly turning to the pair now that their enemies had been dealt with. It wasn't a mystery as to why they could not take a breather but there was a sense that something was amiss. A chorus of groans broke the silence as some of his less experienced members realized gaining new scars wasn't as great as they previously thought. Shanks hadn't been the only one badly injured. Those who didn't have life-threatening wounds or hadn't received anything major swiftly got to work tending to their own.
Marco remained silent, focusing his power to heal the wound as best he could with as much as he could. He truly hated that he couldn't do more for someone else but at least the flames would do a little something -- at least until he returned the captain to his medics.
"Never. That was one thing Pops always liked about you. Not that he'd say it to you," he admitted, managing a small smile. How genuine was it? He couldn't be sure. Keeping Shanks alive was the only thing on his mind. His jaw clenched when he realized his healing flames had reached their limit and the only thing that could be done was physical treatment.
The phoenix nodded, pulling his hand away as the flames diminished. There was something else about the wound that unsettled him, it was already becoming inflamed and red. It wasn't unusual for wounds to act that way but the quickness of it was alarming.
"Not like I'd just leave you," he tried to smile again but the usual calm air around him wasn't present. "Won't look very cool being carried but we'll get there faster if we fly." Taking a few steps back, flames burst from his arms, creating fiery wings as his legs became avian in appearance. With a powerful flap of his wings, he was airborne, first flying past Shanks only to circle around and as carefully as he could pick the captain up by his shoulders.
Medics were already on the ship, tending to the wounded and awaiting Marco and their captain. He flew quickly, reaching the deck of the ship in record time before gently lowering down until Shanks' feet touched the deck.
“Damn, and here I was thinking I was going to come out of this looking impressive enough for you to want to join my crew.” He wasn’t worried about how it appeared being carried by the phoenix. He was injured and needed to return to his ship, and an old friend was here to help him. There was nothing to be ashamed about – even if it did look a little silly to some. Wouldn’t be the first time he looked less than cool.
And he didn’t really have the luxury right now of worrying about his appearance. By the time his feet hit the deck he was barely able to stay upright. He was doing what he could to stay conscious, but it was getting harder. At least he didn’t need to worry about the child, or any other innocent people. There were enough hands on deck to ensure their safety and survival.
“You need medical attention too?” Shanks looked over the other man, but he couldn’t really focus on anything. His vison was getting a bit fuzzy. He wasn’t sure how obvious that was. His ship’s doctor was coming up to them, that he could tell as Hongo’s familiar face cut through the fuzziness. A part of him that had been fighting to stay conscious relaxed just a bit. Letting that go probably was a mistake. “Sorry, my hospitality is lacking right now-”
“Boss? Boss!” Hongo was right at the man’s side as he slumped over. The ship doctor more used to his captain’s limp weight than he’d like to be. He noticed the wound, his eyes widening. He turned to Marco. He’d heard enough stories about the man and his Devil Fruit to know that the other would have done what he could to help. He was trusted by their captain, and that was enough for Hongo. “And this is after you used your flames?”
It looked like there was something more at play. Aside from the injury also needing to be patched up with good old needle, something was causing an infection. Whether it was an intentional addition to a weapon or something else, it would need to be treated. If it was bad enough to do this to the captain, others were at risk too. “Did you notice anything on the weapons they were using?”
There's something very-- weird in all of them, maybe broken, that, when they're all together, fit together like puzzle pieces. Best case scenario. But when one piece is missing, possibly in danger--
Or just when he's bored--
Well, here we are.
"Team Rocket boot camp teach you that?" That's a curiosity. Meowth believes her, of course. His attention flickers to the guy in question.
"Alright, I can do that. Don't screw up, Jess."
“Of course it did. And I won’t screw this up.” Any Rocket worth their salt would have gone through some weapon training. And not just in using Pokémon as weapons. Though she had also gotten some more practice throughout her time in various gangs.
Hm. Maybe therapy was something she really ought to consider.
Regardless, there were too many people around them who were armed for her to consider being not. And even though technically Pokémon could be used in defense against enemies she really didn’t want to put any of hers in such danger – even Meowth in the line of fire didn’t sit well with her.
And though she didn’t want to put him in danger, she wasn’t against using his sneaky skills. So when her target was alone, she put on her best flirtatious gaze and moved in. “Hey there handsome.” She had taken him by surprise – good. “I’m a little lost, do you think you could help?”
You know what they say, save a horse ride a- [blows up]
❝ gah, why are ya' so upset smokey ? i am a pirate, so what ? ❞ the devilish grin only stretched far too wide over his wry expression. if ace could grow horns right now he'd resemble the devil himself. a charming and sly one on top of that with the carefree attitude that suited only him. from one side ace could appreciate the sheer determination that the admiral wore like a proud crown over his head. never stopping even for a second when it came to deal justice and protect people that were innocent.
his sense of justice was way more different than the corrupted one guiding the rest of the marine. he could sense that smoker was balancing his own weights and rising stakes that only he could win in an unfair bet with the fate itself. there was some kind of respect, deep within the fire fist towards this man but oh well, he'd never say it out loud anyway.
the distant explosion cut their sweet talk short. ace's senses now high, hazel irises immediately shot towards the source of loud noise and grey smoke swirling into the sky. it wasn't him obviously and he had no interest in causing trouble in a small village like that anyway. he could only wonder what happened but before ace could turn towards the white chase - he was already taking off.
❝ oi oi smokey wait ! ❞ the fire fist called with a wide grin. oh this is going to be interesting. one hand rested atop of his hat before the pirate went to chase the marine towards the village. if he could help the people as well who suffered from this sudden explosion, then he didn't really mind following smoker around.
He was more than prepared to handle this on his own. Calling for backup without knowing what he was getting into would only cause confusion, and besides – he could handle most anything on his own. To his surprise though he realized he wasn’t on his own, he heard Fire Fist and saw the man coming up behind him out of the corner of his eye.
“I ain’t waitin’,” who knew if those caught in this mess had time? But he wasn’t going to stop the pirate either. It would take too long to stop and question the other’s motives. Smoker had to go on what he knew about the other man, and hope that he wasn’t making foolish decisions. He knew that Ace wasn’t the kind to go after innocents, he also knew that the man had been in his presence when the explosion happened. So either he was working with someone – not something quite in the other’s MO as Smoker had observed over the years – or someone else was preying on a village.
He slowed a little when he came into sight of the village and saw not a pirate ship in the distance, but a group of bandits. A few of them held sticks of dynamite, which would explain the explosions.
“Are they trying to level the damn town?” He glanced to see if Fire Fist was still following. “Don’t light anymore of the explosives.” Perhaps he didn’t need to remind Ace to be cautious with his powers, but Smoker was used to giving orders. He didn’t want to rely on the pirate’s help, knowing full well that a pirate could turn at any moment, but the amount of bandits and the civilians in the way made this a tall job for just him.
“I’ll go after the bandits.” It was his way of splitting the job. If he went after those lighting sticks of dynamite, and Ace wanted to help, Ace could get the people out of danger without his power creating a hazard. If Ace followed instructions or not, Smoker wasn’t going to wait around any longer.
"the crocodile isn't the first one to pull those kind of strings, the marine is just desperate not to lose their little power toys so let it slip until they cannot anymore," the surgeon of death hums, it's a way to hide frustration has he does not seem it fit to allow for his own emotions to slip through just like that. it's not always easy, knowing how much harm had been done to the world because of his own survival. even if cora-san wouldn't have been able to bring him down entirely, dressrosa and the the SMILE factory might have been stopped in time.
the underground was in a great tumbolt over the incidentof alabasta and with that, law didn't struggle to learn the truth about it, having placed himself there years ago for the sake of information and other necessities. you didn't learn about the snake in the shadow if you insisted to remain in the sun.
inked fingers tap to the rhythm of his heart as he lets the other spit out his thoughts and anger. golden eyes remain on the broader figure but after a moment there is a small, sharp laugh: "except for one of the young marines, it seems your perspectives aren't too popular, yet here i find myself wondering if i my distaste fo the navy would be a little less if there would be more of your kind. i can respect your perspective because you do not only watch but act. take it as a compliment if you want, you do not have to like me to accept it."
law tried, always, for blond's sake but the marines make it hard, whenever he was willing to give them a benefit of the doubt, he had been proven wrong over and over. that little one now celebrated a hero was an expectation too, so seems to be the one in front of him.
"the marines i saw only ever watched crimes taking place, even knowing the truth. i like the koby kid, he seems to have a realistic idea of justice, so do you. i rather have a man dislikng pirates than pretending to just for the own sake. it was a marine who saved me, he always seemed rather fond of what he was doing but you all make it hard to feel as, there are those who actually intend to protect and safe, not only serve the celestial dragons."
The rage Smoker felt in his gut was impossible to ignore as he heard Law speak. His anger wasn’t towards the pirate, though he certainly had other feelings towards the man. What was infuriating to him was the truths that were being spoken about the Marines. Crocodile wasn’t the first, and he wasn’t the last, to be the one to manipulate any sort of grace given to him by the law. And the fact that anyone who had made any sort of oath to protect the innocent was turning a blind eye to the horrors was enough to make Smoker sick. It was only because of Hina that he didn’t take more drastic measures. The woman already stuck her neck out enough for him.
And then, what only made things worse, was how he felt more appreciative towards the praise from the pirate than his own people. That he was recognized for taking action instead of just sitting on his hands, it was important to him. That a pirate took note and it felt more sincere than anything his own superiors had offered… that only upset his nerves more.
The amount of crooked Marines he knew of that still managed to keep their jobs made him all the more infuriated. He wasn’t sure which he despised more: those Marines taking bribes, using their power and position to line their own pockets, or those Marines too scared to take a stand.
Now Koby… well, that Marine was someone Smoker kept an eye on. The kid at first seemed like the latter type. One of those scared shitless at the first sight of conflict. But as he watched Koby train under Garp, and take his own stand, well. The soldier seemed to be precisely the kind of Marine that Smoker wanted on their side.
But something Law said caught his curiosity. A Marine saved him? So a personal connection to the Marines, and yet here Law was as a pirate. Unless it was more something done flippantly. “You know the name of the Marine?”
A nod is given. Yeah, he remembers that night well enough. Remembers seeing the woman flirting with Benn and how he had decided against it to join in on the fun for once. She hadn't been his type and he had been slightly distracted himself after all. He also remembers how he had hollered after them when they had left, wishing them a pleasurable night.
There is a pang of guilt running through him now. Usually Benn was the one keeping an eye on everything while they let loose. And the one time the man would have needed someone to watch his back, no one had. They all had failed in this regard, to secure in their own power to recognize a potential threat. But the Shanks was the one who was most to blame. It was his job as captain to make sure all of his crew was protected...and he hadn't done so. Had indulged in his own pleasures to much. A mistake that had come back with full force now. What an utter fool he had been.
In this moment he swore to himself that, if he would ever cross paths with those ciphor pol agents again, there would be no mercy for them. He would make them pay for what they did. For everything. And he would make them regret for meddling with them like this in the first place.
Without saying anything he moved to sit down on Benns bed once more. He looks into the older mans eyes as he wraps his hand around his throat, not squeezing, but simply holding it there. It's only a few seconds before he moves on, calloused fingers reaching for the back of his neck. He could feel the scar there. One that hadn't been there before, he was sure of it. Had memorized and kissed all those scars that littered his former first mates body, knew the story behind all of them by heart.
He pulls his hand back once more, keeping his eyes on the other. If their little talk had proven anything to him, then that his instincts had been right. That Benn hadn't betrayed them...well technically he had, but not on his free will. "I wish you had told me all of this sooner." It would have solved so many problems they were facing now and it made him wonder once more if Benn really hadn't been able to talk, or if Shanks had done something that made the other man doubt his trust in him.
He closes his eyes, looking into another direction when Benn calls him captain once more. Funny how, despite everything he still was the voice of reason. A heavy sigh left him. "I'll make sure they'll know." But not everything. No. Until the whole situation with Benn was solved he would hold onto the little lie of the first mate going after whoever had attacked them two months ago. "But more important is what I'm going to do with you...." Another sigh. "I'll speak with the others about everything, listen to their advice and then make a decision. But, it's not going to end in your death." Not after what he had learned just now. "We'll find a suitable solution." Like they always had.
The shame he felt for letting himself get taken advantage of like that would not go away easily. He was supposed to be the one they could all rely on. The one who would make sure the crew was safe when they were drinking and partying. He was the one who watched everyone’s backs so they didn’t have to watch theirs, and then he let his own defenses fall. Now, everyone was paying for his lapse in judgment. The binds on his body proof of how much pain he had brought upon them all.
But he didn’t speak or move when Shanks came towards him, when Shanks’ hand went to his throat. He fought his desire to look away from Shanks, forced himself to keep his eyes open and steady – meeting his Captain’s stare. Shanks’ calloused hand on his neck brought serenity to his breathing, as though he was hoping that the other would use that hand to bring an end to Benn’s life.
Of course, that wouldn’t be something Shanks would do. Despite how much easier it would make aspects of his life; Shanks would never resort to such actions. Shanks had too much integrity, held too much value in the lives of those he loved despite their actions. Benn didn’t dare move away from Shanks’ touch and finally when the other’s fingers went over where that device had been, he closed his eyes and breathed out.
There was some relief, there was evidence to support Benn’s story. Not that he believed it should exonerate him entirely, but the proof would be enough for Shanks to know he had been acting on the best interest of the crew.
The next great sorrow came when Shanks pulled his hand back, and Benn felt the absence of his captain’s warmth immediately. If it had been another moment, a different situation, Benn would have caught those fingers in his own and brought them to his lips. He would have kissed the scarred knuckles and wrist. He would have shown his devotion, bowed in the presence of his captain.
Instead all he could do was watch as the hand left him yearning.
If he had only been able to tell Shanks about what was happening. If only he had confidence that he could get the information to his captain without those threatening him learning of his actions. If only. So many if onlys.
The confirmation that Shanks would still follow at least his advice in letting the others know of the danger they’re in came as little comfort, but comfort nonetheless. And further, Benn fully agreed that he would need to be dealt with in one way or another. He was sure he could think about what Yasopp would suggest, and further what Lime would propose. His saving graces would be Lucky and Shanks. The other officers… he wasn’t as sure of. Hongo for one would still be bound by his vows as a doctor, and perhaps as a friend.
“I am not under any false impression that you will let your personal feelings color your actions, Captain.” It was his way of further trying to ease any emotions attached to actions that must be taken against him. Benn would not take it personally should the final decision against him be severe.
{Slowly but surely I'm getting things back together. I'm replying to everything I have in drafts, about 30 now. Some threads might not make it through but when everything is sorted i'll let you know if I dropped a thread and we can pick up some plots again.
My activity on the dash is still quiet so I don't end up taking on more drafts than I can before I finish up through things.
Also I'm working on some original fiction that I'm hoping to put on wattpad. It's a novel I self-published as a teen and now I'm working through it to just be a way to generate interest in my writing. Imagine fantasy world Breakfast Club.
Thanks for your patience and I'm always around on Discord or through DMs if you want to chat about things~~
Bit of Zach McGowan from his latest film “Last Call” (2021) Part 1
bepo picks law up, pulling him over his shoulder. "i am doing okay. i'm tired, but that will be all right. i have been in situations like that before." nothing ever would compare to the time when he found himself alone in the north blue, not even at the age of ten when he ran into his captain. until earlier this year, they never parted ways for longer than a day or two. it is always hard for the mink, who loves his captain like the older brother he lost.
"he will be angry about it when he wakes up. the captain is stubborn; he thinks he must die for his crew. there is no doubt, he will blame himself again for this…" the polar bear does not go into details; he knows why this is so much worse for law than it already would be for anyone else, looking at the history of the surgeon. he knows the man will think he truly is cursed, meant to have everyone he cherishes being ripped from life's grip … no, this is not the time! they will be fine; the mink will believe it for both of them!
he's still glad the inn seems to be almost empty at this hour; most patrons have likely gone out and about. he takes two stairs at once, having to be careful not to bump his head once the door opens and the three slip inside. bepo carefully places his captain down and, with some effort, releases the tight grip from the cursed blade to leave it by his side.
" ... i am sorry he might come off as harsh. the captain's friends and family all died when he was a child and ever since, he lost some people he cherished. our crew has been together for fifteen years ... he probably feels like he was unable to do anything again." after all, bepo gives in to his worry of law's overall mental state when it comes to dealing with further possible loss.
Benn listens to the mink as he speaks excuses for his captain’s behavior. A young man, angry and heartbroken at his own inability to be everything his crew needed at once. For the captain, it must feel like a failure as his crewmember says. But his crew’s loyalty is proof to Benn that this failure is unfounded at its core: failures of such magnitude hardly ever gain such a loyal friend.
The Red Hair Pirate doesn’t show that he’s unbothered by the other captain. It’s part of his own crew’s reputation and safety that he has an air of unforgiveness about him. That he is stoic and unwilling to bend tradition in favor of empathy. Though it is all a façade, and he understands more than any might think when it comes to how a worthy captain behaves. For all intents and purposes, Benn has heard all he needs.
“Such is the curse of the captain,” he says, not particularly meaning Law even though the man applies. “By being who they are they earn our respect and our admiration. And in exchange, we are willing to lay down our own lives for them. A proper captain, such as mine, such as yours it sounds, refuses to believe their life is more important than anyone else on the crew.”
The Red Hair Pirates would survive without him, Benn Beckman. They’d still sail so long as Red-Haired Shanks still stood strong. It was a fact that Shanks often turned his head away from, refused to listen to, refused to acknowledge. He would fight for them as strong as any of them would fight for him. But when it came down to it, Benn had no reservations that no matter what happened to him – it was his captain who had to survive. “It’s because of their unwillingness to sacrifice our lives that we are so ready to do so ourselves.”
He looks over the unconscious captain and then back at the mink, “I will ensure his survival and recovery. My captain views pointless harm as the low actions of a coward.” Well, the term Shanks used was asshole along with some other adjectives. But Benn didn’t feel the need to repeat his words verbatim.
I’m Declaring War Against “What If” Videos: Project Copy-Knight
What Are “What If” Videos?
These videos follow a common recipe: A narrator, given a fandom (usually anime ones like My Hero Academia and Naruto), explores an alternative timeline where something is different. Maybe the main character has extra powers, maybe a key plot point goes differently. They then go on and make up a whole new story, detailing the conflicts and romance between characters, much like an ordinary fanfic.
Except, they are fanfics. Actual fanfics, pulled off AO3, FFN and Wattpad, given a different title, with random thumbnail and background images added to them, narrated by computer text-to-speech synthesizers.
They are very easy to make: pick a fanfic, copy all the text into a text-to-speech generator, mix the resulting audio file with some generic art from the fandom as the background, give it a snappy title like “What if Deku had the Power of Ten Rings”, photoshop an attention-grabbing thumbnail, dump it onto YouTube and get thousands of views.
In fact, the process is so straightforward and requires so little effort, it’s pretty clear some of these channels have automated pipelines to pump these out en-masse. They don’t bother with asking the fic authors for permission. Sometimes they don’t even bother with putting the fic’s link in the description or crediting the author. These content-farms then monetise these videos, so they get a cut from YouTube’s ads.
In short, an industry has emerged from the systematic copyright theft of fanfiction, for profit.
Project Copy-Knight
Since the adversaries almost certainly have automated systems set up for this, the only realistic countermeasure is with another automated system. Identifying fanfics manually by listening to the videos and searching them up with tags is just too slow and impractical.
And so, I came up with a simple automated pipeline to identify the original authors of “What If” videos.
It would go download these videos, run speech recognition on it, search the text through a database full of AO3 fics, and identify which work it came from. After manual confirmation, the original authors will be notified that their works have been subject to copyright theft, and instructions provided on how to DMCA-strike the channel out of existence.
I built a prototype over the weekend, and it works surprisingly well:
On a randomly-selected YouTube channel (in this case Infinite Paradox Fanfic), the toolchain was able to identify the origin of half of the content. The raw output, after manual verification, turned out to be extremely accurate. The time taken to identify the source of a video was about 5 minutes, most of those were spent running Whisper, and the actual full-text-search query and Levenshtein analysis was less than 5 seconds.
The other videos probably came from fanfiction websites other than AO3, like fanfiction.net or Wattpad. As I do not have access to archives of those websites, I cannot identify the other ones, but they are almost certainly not original.
Armed with this fantastic proof-of-concept, I’m officially declaring war against “What If” videos. The mission statement of Project Copy-Knight will be the elimination of “What If” videos based on the theft of AO3 content on YouTube.
I Need Your Help
I am acutely aware that I cannot accomplish this on my own. There are many moving parts in this system that simply cannot be completely automated – like the selection of YouTube channels to feed into the toolchain, the manual verification step to prevent false-positives being sent to authors, the reaching-out to authors who have comments disabled, etc, etc.
So, if you are interested in helping to defend fanworks, or just want to have a chat or ask about the technical details of the toolchain, please consider joining my Discord server. I could really use your help.
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See full blog article and acknowledgements here: https://echoekhi.com/2023/11/25/project-copy-knight/
The contract was momentarily forgotten as she continued talking with the woman. There was something fascinating about her and how animated she was compared to anyone else she'd ever come across. Honestly, she was already growing fond of Cherise and couldn't imagine what she might've done to warrant a hit to be taken out on her. It wouldn't be the first time someone wrongfully had an assassin sent after them.
"Wow...that's a pretty specific man," she responded, trying hard not to laugh at the choking part. It had been unexpected but she wasn't here to kinkshame. Then again, she could relate to wanting a bit of that herself but she kept the comment to herself.
"Does such a man exist...like have you seen him or been with him or do you have a specific type?" She asked curiously before growing quiet as she continued talking.
The contract came back to mind and she wondered if it was another case of an angry ex wanting revenge for no real reason. Sunni found herself actually enjoying the conversation and couldn't sense anything wrong or like she was being lied to. Before she did anything, she wanted to find out more.
"Sounds like you dodged a bullet," Sunni replied. "If he was so quick to be with someone else he probably did you a favor. Though...I don't suppose you did anything after to upset him? Some men take things too far." She added. Of course, he may not have been the one who hired her.
“Hm.” She hummed as she looked out at the horizon, thinking over her actions with her ex. At one point he had been the one. But now it was clear that he was just silly. As most men were. Except for the one who would be her true love, of course. He may be jovial and humorous, but never silly.
“After to upset him?” She repeated slowly. That night that she had gone to her friends, ignoring her own tear-streaked face, telling them what had happened and her sudden need to leave the island, it was clear in her mind despite her desire for it to not be there. Her eyes shut tight and she imagined a scoreboard. One used in baseball games. She imagined the game over and all the numbers resetting to zero. As she opened her eyes, that night was wiped like the numbers from her mind.
In response to the question, with her newly clear mind, she shook her head. “I wouldn’t wish to upset someone so badly.” But there was a caveat. One that hadn’t been erased with that wiping of the scoreboard.
The day she had learned of his deceit. It was also… well, “That was also the day I learned I had eaten a devil fruit. I don’t entirely recall the sequence of events, but I did blow up her bra.”
She paused a moment, “She wasn’t in it. I never saw her. But I think he might have gotten caught by the explosion because it blew up when I threw it at him. I apologized but, well, if her bra hadn’t been there it wouldn’t have exploded on him. My team and I then decided to leave the island.”
Another deep sigh came from her chest. "I'm not sure if that would upset him though. He was plenty reasonable enough while we were together. He knows he did something terrible."
