Ooc: Any and all are welcome to join, lets go!

Act 1
The Festival Begins

Once every five years a great event takes place on Sandy Island, a festival thrown by the great Alabastan Royal family dating back hundreds of years. Originally created for the royal bloodline to show of their esteemed spotted dock line, world class runners considered to be the best of the best. Now it has turned into a celebration capped off with a desert survival race, contestants are given fourty-eight hours to travel one hundred and fifty miles over the unforgiving desert terrain. The rules are simple, entering as an individual or as a member of a team they are allowed to use any kind of beast, devil fruit, or any other non-mechanized form of transportation. However, they are only allowed to take one canteen of water and a single loaf of bread for sustenance. Nobles from all bring their expensive beasts, pure bred racing lines, even enslaved devil fruit users, some just seek the prize money at the end of it all. But no matter what they all risk their lives.

The port town was in disrepair, the docks had been repeatedly destroyed, first by an enraged fishman, then the demon known as Bazil Styx took at the adjacent dock soon after. Sending Nanohana’s economy into the shitter. Most, if not all the residents had half expected the festival to be cancelled due to the untimely death of the prince being tasked with running the event, having succumb to his wounds from the events that had transpired at the Rain Dinners. In an effort to prove that they were still the undisputed leaders of the country, they decided to go through with the race. Having the fourth prince Seto-Amun Neferteri take his late elder brothers place as head organizer of the entire festival, promising to throw the greatest bash this country had ever seen. Hoping the allure and splendor of such an event would take the worlds eyes off the recent spike of piracy and show that it was a nice place to come too.

Using carefully planned parade routes and specific parts of the towns, the royalty managed to hide much of the damage that had been done to the individual cities. Showing once again how easy it is for the government to deceive the people they are supposed to be watching over. Vendors set up along the marked roads, effectively abandoning their shops if they weren’t located in the open districts. Overnight it seemed as if the once miserable and pirate plagued country of Alabasta was once again a thriving country on the verge of greatness. But this was just one of the many dark secrets the world government had.

Bazil and Yasuke traveled through the parts of town that were currently open to the public, the royal guard could be seen posted at the various gaps in the charade. Preventing the entry of any desirable persons and the exit of any undesirables. As the royalty had effectively pushed the slums and their inhabitants into the freshly made ruins of the Alabastan towns. Their dark silhouettes could be seen watching, begging from the shadows, their silent cries going unheard as the guests and festival goers had much better things to do. Though not all of the scum was hidden, on the streets you could see the kinds of people this type of event attracts, the closer the duo got to where the participants, called ‘jockeys’ stayed with their employers and various transports. Everything from teams of young kids who participated in local sandboarding competitions to slavers of Baltigo, one of which had a sand sled team consisting of five dog minks in chains, using a whip to control their behavior. Their muzzles and filed down claws preventing retaliation, though these were nothing compared to the mental shackles the slave driver had over them. The fear could he seen in their eyes as the jockey and manager snickered at them, sizing them up and checking their condition for the upcoming race.

“And they say I’m a fuckin bad guy.” Bazil snickered as they walked by, his trademark mohawk wrapped in a desert cloth with a pair goggles strapped around the top of his head. Covering up his distinguishing features at the urging of Yasuke as his recent actions have made him almost as famous as the royal family themselves.


“Just misunderstood, young lord. Bwahahaha.” The samurai bellowed back, his booming laugh drawing the attention of the shady people they walked by. The various thugs and ‘business’ men sizing up the pair, neither of which looked like your typical jockey. Yasuke being much to large to ride on a speedy mount such as a spotted duck and Bazil, well with his desert wraps and devilish grin they weren’t sure what to expect out him. As they continued down to the registration board, a place that also held the most food and shopping venues, a faint cry could be heard coming from the tent a few meters to their right. Noticing Bazil’s interest in whatever was going in there the man from Wano decided to get out quick, as things that pique the young mans interest usually lead to trouble. “Young lord, I think I will head over to the concessions, if you need anything just holler!” The man shouted to the red haired pirate who was already halfway into the tent, leaving the samurai to eat to his hearts content.

Popping his head in, the pirate was greeted by the scene of a woman being held on the ground, a knife to her throat and clothes half ripped. Her eyes filled with the same kind of fear the minks had earlier, looking around the room he saw an older man bleeding from his head and struggling on the floor, his arms outstretched to the girl. After a few moments the man noticed Bazil’s presence, offering him the advice of turning around like nothing happened and everything would be square.

The old man, now looking at the pirate, “Please…” He gasped, “Please… I’ll do..I’ll give you anything, please just save my daughter!” Using his last remaining energy to yell as loud as he could pleading for his daughters life to be safe.

“Anything?” Bazil mused, his razor sharp grin ear to ear, he swaggered over to the man, who continued to threaten the womans life if he got any closer. Ignoring his bluffs, well not caring whether they were bluffs or not, the pirate turned his right thumb into an a curved blade, the attacker freezing as his face filled with horror. Bazil grabbed the assailant by his hair he took the the blade and slowly slit the man’s throat, spraying the warm crimson liquid all over the young girl, who at this point was frozen in fear, quickly realizing they had just traded in one demon for another. One who was much, much, worse.

A few hours later both the father and the daughter, who due to sever shock had passed out awoke on the floor to the sight of Bazil sitting in a chair eating an apple. “Oh check it out, sleepin fuckin beauty and her granpa finally decide to get the fuck up.” He mused, leaning forward in the chair, the apple squishing as he bit into it once more. 

“So uhh..” He paused, “Remember when you said anything?” His eyes now fixated on the blood drenched woman, he reached out and grabbed her, pulling the young woman into his lap. “So I figure, you let me and my cook jockey for you, since yours…” The pirate stroking the girls bloodied cheek, then his attention on the corpse across the room, “Suddenly passed.” Chuckled the pirate.

“O…Okay..just..please don’t hurt us.” His voice shaking in fear, the man pleaded Bazil to be merciful to his daughter.


“Mercy?” The demon questioned, stopping his hand from petting the blood soaked girl. He looked at the man and smiled nice and wide, “I haven’t even done nothin yet.” His devilish grin ominously foreshadowing his sociopathic actions to come.

Act 2
Kindness

The sights and sounds of the festival were abundant as Yasuke strolled through the makeshift food court. The vendors having everything from grilled savory meats to churros sweet enough to send you to heaven, the aromas that filled the air warmed the samurais heart and made his mouth water. To him, this is what heaven looked like, food as far as the eye could see, chefs working their magic on the dishes they prepared, happy customers all about. He visited the various shops, gathering rare ingredients and a few already prepared items for himself and Bazil.

“I guess I should be getting back to the young lord, no tellin what he’s gotten into by now, bwahaha.” Yasuke laughed to himself as he began walking back to the tent he had last seen the pirate at. As he went, the native people all stared and whispered as he walked by, the samurai was used to this however. It’s not every day a Wano samurai happened by, though no one could actually tell that since he still didn’t have a sword yet. Mostly staring at the mans stature, dwarfing that of the average man, his long blonde locks flowing down, and the flamboyant style of dress, the man stuck out like a sore thumb. His bright blue and pink kimono decorated in black skulls, the jewelry he had received from Bazil upon agreeing to follow him not in his face and ears and his eyes hidden behind two circular black lenses. This was not a man that blended in that was obvious.

Returning to the tent he looked around, finding no sign of his retainer, figuring they might know where he went Yasuke popped in his head into the tent, “Sorry to bother you, I was just won-…” His pleasant tone broke off mid sentence, “Young Lord what is this?!” The sight he was greeted with was that of Bazil sitting in the center of the room with a blood soaked woman on his lap while he stroked her hair, the body of a man who’s grav was that of a pool of his own blood and sand, and an old man bleeding from his head crying on the ground.

“Yo!” Bazil said, pausing from petting the terrified woman to wave at the samurai, his toothy grin wide and full.

Palming his face Yasuke sighed, “Five minutes, young lord.” The man paused shaking his head, “I was gone five minutes.” Placing the food on a nearby table he walked over the corpse checking for a pulse and the extent of hi injuries.

“Oh that fuckers dead.” Bazil laughed maliciously, taking pride in his kill.

“Clearly.” Sighing once more the samurai moved to the old man, addressing his wounds and helping him into a nearby chair. Next his attention turned to woman sitting on Bazil’s lap, “Come here young miss.” The samurai took her hand and pulled her off the demons lap and walked her over to a wash basin in the corner of the room, about five meters from where the pirate was sitting. Yasuke took a wet cloth and began wiping the crimson stains from her pale skin. “Now that has to feel better, bwahahaha.” His bellowing laugh lightening the mood of the room.

The girl nodded, managing to crack a smile from the large mans infectious laughter, “My name is Rosita and that’s my father Bengor.” She said, “We live on the other side of the island in a small town outside of the ruins, our family has always made a living raising and breeding spotted ducks for racing.” Her ton become more somber as she spoke, “But now we only have a few left and if we cant place in the top three this year to earn the prize money and a chance at catching the eye of an investor, we will we go bankrupt and lose everything we have.”

Looking her up and down, Yasuke began to smile and unlike Bazil’s, his was a comforting one. The kind of smile that brought hope to the hopeless. “Bwhahahaha, don’tchu worry pretty lady, my boss Bazil here is a one of a kind great and he’d help ya out im sure of it!” His large arm wrapping around the red haired pirates neck and shoulders, pulling him into a tight one armed hug.


“The fuck?!” Bazil exclaimed, his face being squished into the large mans belly.

Act 3
Vika

“You’re fucking high if you think I’m doin something fer nothin.” Bazil exclaimed, pushing off of the large samurai.

“Aww but come on boss, someone as capable and awesome as you could easily win a simple race like this! Bwahahaha” Yasuke’s jovial tone sweetening the flattering words he was using to try and convince the red haired pirate to lend a hand by appealing to his abnormally large ego. Using his left arm to slap Bazil’s back several times, further annoying the young man.

“Of course it be fuckin easy.” Scoffed the young red haired pirate, “Im Bazil fucking Styx.” His tone full of arrogance as he continued to speak, “But that don’t mean Im gonna go around doin shit for people.” Yasuke now trying his best to convince him to lend a hand, he continued to nag his boss.
“The top three finishers are awarded prize money.” The old man chimed in, Bazil’s pointed ears now perking up, a devilish grin overcoming his face.

“Now your speaking my language.” Grabbing a chair, the pirate spun it around on one of the legs so it faced backwards. Sitting down, he leaned his arms in the back of the chair and rested his chin on them. Intently staring at the older gentleman across from him. “Tell me more.”

“Well, racing team from all over Paradise come to compete, showing off their duck lines or mink slaves, those who win, or even finish the race at all..” His voice trailed off at the end for a second, a saddened look fell upon his face, “The ones that survive and win, they receive sponsorships from investors to help further their practice. Those with mink slaves or ducks usually sell off the rights for breeding purposes to others interested. Essentially matching the best winning studs with their own prized females.” Twiddling his fingers the man’s expression was still filled with grief. “The ducks… are treated fairly well, do them having a certain season in which to breed, like most animals. But Minks… they are a different story, since like humans they can mate and breed whenever, the fastest women are tied to posts while the strongest males are given virility drugs and like animals, they force them to pro create all for the sake of creating a faster racing team.” Bengor looked Bazil in the eyes with his somber expression, “My son, Vika was killed right before the last race, you see his wife was a mink, as not everyone sees them as animals…But she insisted on coming with us to the race, she was our vet for the ducks and my son never could say no to her… Well the first night here, men came into our tents to take her, she was a cheetah mink with unrivaled speed, but in a surprise ambush in the middle of the night I didn’t matter how fast you were..” The long winded speech now finally nearing its conlusion, “They descended upon her quickly, crushing her knees with metal pipes so she couldn’t use her legs as an advantage, as they had no use for her speed, they just wanted her for breeding, my son tried to fight back but before he could do much of anything they crushed his skull as they did her legs, leaving just s quickly as they came…. Since then without my son who was our jockey, we had to hire this man.” He said pointing to the corpse across the room, “And we have inched closer and closer to bankruptcy.” Finishing up, Bengor looked at the two men who sat across from him, Yasuke’s eyes welled up wit tears, his soft heart breaking at such a terrible story. Bazil however just stared back at him blankly, as if waiting for more to be said, when nothing was said the young pirate spoke up.

“What about the prize money..?” The Red devil asked, his patience now thinner than paper as he hated listening through long winded explanations. The old man went to speak again but was quickly interrupted by the large samurai.

“Boss!” He yelled sobbing, “How can your heart not be touched by such a tragic event.” Yasuke sniffled, whipping away the tears that ran down his face. Bazil looked up at the man, who looked like nothing more than a giant baby with long golden dreadlocks.

“God you’re a fuckin pussy, man.” The pirate sighed, as if embarrassed to be around the man.

Act 4
The Sabbath

A  few hours had passed, now only about five hours from midnight, the start of the race the rag tag group were still in the tent. Bazil in the back corner, a bottle of whiskey in his hand, every few seconds taking a swig, Bengor and his daughter Rosita had left for the stables to tend to their ducks, of which at this point they only had two left. One of which was a former member of the Alabastan royal duck squad, used for all sort of various missions, from delivering rare valuables through the dangerous desert to the mounted cavalry division in a war time situation. Losing his standing five years ago after his rider was killed, the animal falling into a deep depression as it two favorite people had both been lost. While the other was but a duckling when compared to the seasoned veteran who’s name was Arrow, the younger they called Hope, as he was the last duckling they had produced over the past five years. Being delivered the next day by Bengor and the then eleven-year old Rosita, there were complications and with no vet around to see to the situation, Hope’s mother died.

“Thank you for helping out, young lord.” Yasuke said as he flicked his wrist a out, sending the contents of the frying pan held up in the air, only to catch it back in the pan as it came down once again. “You truly are an saintly man.” The samurai added, his face stern and expressionless as he said it, only to break into a bellowing laughter, “Bwhahahahahaha” The meat sizzled as it cooked over the fire he had made, the delicious aroma filling the tent. Next to him was a small table with a tray on it, various ingredients could be seen, onions, peppers, rice, were among what could be seen.

Bazil shot a dagger like glare at the cooking samurai, then with another gulp he retorted, “Yeah, whatever..” Trailing off as he drank the last bit, downing about a third of it in one go. Standing up, the buki buki user made his way to the exit of the tent. “I’ll be back in abit.” He muttered as the young mna opened up the flap and stepped out.

“But dinner is almost done, young lord!” Yasuke exclaimed frantically, the thought of missing a meal time the stuff of nightmares for the cook. “And what about the race?!”

“Eat it yourself, fatass.” Bazil said, “And fuckin said I’d be back.” He finished waving the hand without the empty bottle in it. Stepping outside he was greeted with an peculiar sight, gone were the families, no more children ran the streets with their parents, stopping and petting the chained minks like animals, laughing and giggling as they enjoyed the festivals pleasantries. Yes, now they were all replaced with the underbelly of Alabasta, whores walking down the streets, wearing clothes that left very little to the imagination if they wore any at ll, swinging from each other to the next closest person, junkies lined the streets shooting crimson red liquid into theirs veins, and the giggling onlookers were replaced by drunkards throwing rocks and spitting on the fur covered mammals. You see these were not the prized winners, no these were the minks who either couldn’t or wouldn’t run. A team only needs seven good dogs, the two closest to the sled are the wheels, they are the largest of the team. The next pair I is the team dogs, they maintain the speed for the sled while the swing dogs adjust for steering. They find their home between the team and the lead dog, given to the smartest most obedient mink he guides the way and follows every command of his master. Those who don’t fill one of these vital positions find themselves in a precarious predicament, either being sold off or being used for meat, which is then ground up and fed as a slop to the others.

Bazil went south, he walked through the almost black sabbath like festival, the night was now dark and full of debauchery, the young pirate made his way into a makeshift bar. The large tent had a dirt floor and had about twenty or so tables inside and in every single one of them sat some form of scum. This place felt like home the devilish young lad, his razor sharp grin from pointy ear to pointy ear, he swaggered over to the bar, “Whiskey, leave the bottle.” The bartender nodded, sweeping it off the counter Bazil popped the cork and took another large gulp, approaching two young women who were sitting with what one would a portly fellow, his most attractive feature being his money. Kicking up a chair, the pirate struck up a conversation with the two beautiful women he had on his arms. “You two seem alittle out of place on piggy’s arms.” His razor sharp smirk in full bloom as his attention shot to the now insulted man.

“A brat like you needs to learn respect, luckily I got just the thing for that.” The pig said snapping his fingers, “Mickey, Loomis, take this guy out back and get him ready for me.”

Smiling like the devil himself the pirate looked at the women and said, “If you will just excuse me for one minute.” Standing up, he turned to face the two towering men, both standing around four inches taller than Bazil, “I always wanted to be a lumberjack.” He snarked mockingly.

Act 5
The Race

Nanohana Midnight, 00:00/48:00

The racers lined up at the starting line, about four-hundred participants were about to take part in what will most likely the last race of their lives. The past survival rate for this being less than ten percent, as once the racers entered the desert, it was just as much about surviving the elements as it was your fellow entrant, essentially a free for all brawl where anything goes, the only rules being the limited resources in the beginning and making it too Alaburna.

“Attention Racers!” A booming voice silenced the large crowd that had gathered to watch the start, the area being heavily guarded by the royal guard, as these were those of a certain social standing, royals, the managers and investors, underworld brokers looking for their next big deal. This is where a different kind of scum gathered, the kind that dealt in greed and pride. Unlike the festival of lust and gluttony that was raging in the festival grounds, being left to their own devices. The entrants looking up at the announcer who was light up with large flames and a full moon back drop, “From this moment forward you have fourty-eight hours to cross the finish line in the capital, good luck!” The signal gun firing to start the race. Kicking up a dust cloud that could be confused for a sandstorm, among the first in the lead was the favorite to win, the Alabstan native Sebulba the previous champ and the jockey of what is considered the most elite mink sled team to ever run, a family of painted African wild dog minks, his wheels were the twins Shenzi and Banzai, their father known for his great size and strength, they outweigh the others by five pounds of muscle atleast. Next the team dogs are the elder brother Pace and the younger Otaik usually spending the time arguing with each other, though they work well together. The swing sisters were Nise and Rina, small and agile, they were inseparable since birth. Then, the lead, regarded as the best in race history, being the only holdover from the previous race where as a rookie lead his team set the record for fasted ever recorded finish, doing it in thirty two hours. His chest was thick, limbs toned and long, the mink was much more imposing than his team members, though he was smaller in weigh to that of his younger siblings Shenzi and Banzai, he was just as tall and his willpower was considered to be of secondary level. His name was Balto the Beast, the most loyal dog you would ever see, using every ounce of his power to ensure the victory of his master.

As the dust cleared from the finish line, Yasuke could be seen still sitting there, his duck Hope’s legs had buckled after the first step, his young body unable to handle the samurais massive size. Looking down he saw the tears in the animal’s eyes, he stepped off and fluffed him back up, “Don’t worry little friend, that person will take care of it, Bwhahahaha!” He exclaimed looking at the large group stampeding ahead.

Sandora Desert 04:43/48:00
Sebulba held a sizeable lead at this point having been running his team non stop at their top speeds, his strategy being to abuse the minks great stamina as long as he could. Though he had a secret weapon that he would soon use. The next up was a young sand surfer with a strange ability that somehow allowed him to keep a solid pace since the start. Behind him was the first of many packs that ranged in numbers, the racers still treating as a normal point a to point b type of competition. In the first group Arrow and his rider held strong, keeping a consistent stride to conserve his energy till the time it really mattered.


Festival Grounds 07:22/48:00
Returning to the team tent, Yasuke started another fire and began preparing a meal for himself and Hope, who now sat inside with him. The old man and his daughter no where to be found, most likely getting ready to begin traveling with the rest of the festival to Alubarna. “Well, we can just hang here for now. Then suddenly the tent flap opened up, Bazil, bare chested and covered in blood strolled in, smiling from ear to ear. 


“Yo,” He said, “What’s up?” Bazil said staring blankly.

“You didn’t come back so the girl went instead.” Yasuke said, “Turns out she’s a pretty damn good jockey! Bwahaha!” He bellowed out loudly, Hope the duck nodding in agreement. “So what were you up too all night?” He asked, looking at the bloodied hand prints that were stamped all over the young pirates body. Smiling he motioned for the samurai to walk with him, ending up at the bar tent once again, stepping through, they came upon a bloodied scene. More than twenty of them dead, including the portly man and his bodyguards, the sand on the ground stained red and multiple bodies lying in pools of their own blood. Looking at the carnage and then back to the young man, who’s hands were on his hips as he stood proudly. “Should I even ask what happened?” The cook sighed.

“Nahhh doesn’t really matter, does it?” Bazil laughed. All the samurai could do was sigh and shake his head, palming his face. “Alright! Lets get the fuck outta here. Im bored” He laughed, his left hand now having a nozzle protruding from the palm, setting the tent ablaze as they left towards other adventures.

Sandora Desert 19:15/48:00
The herd had thinned immensely, now down to less than thirty, the elements taking more than their fair share, not even mentioning the beasts that ravaged these sun scorched dunes. Sebulba while still I the lead had lost a lot f ground, seemingly forgoing his lead for no reason, as he only road a few meters I front of the only remaining pack. Rosita and Arrow near the front, reading to overtake the leader in the last hour.

“Mush, Mush!” The whip cracked over the minks heads and on their backs as their pace hastened even more. Looking back he realized that this rate his team would tire while those who conserved themselves would be able to hustle in the last leg. “Looks like it’s time for our secret weapon, Balto” His master yelled out to him, cracking the whip again “Use your power!” Suddenly a blue wave erupted from the lead mink, forcing the following racers to there knees, their animals and all. Foam gushed from their mouths, this was known as Haoshoku Haki, the kings disposition, something only one in a million people have and this mink slave was blessed with it. But even with this great power he was shackled more than any of the others, as he would never think to turn this power on the one who held the whip. Arrow and Rosita went down with the rest, their bodies now completely at the mercy of the desert.

Alubarna 31:47/48:00
Exhausted and on the verge of death, Sebulba’s lone sled crossed the finish line, the minks collapsing as they finished. The musher being flooded by the media and managers, everyone wanting a word with the now two time champion, after once again setting a record. After his spectacular finish, the crowded waited for hours, but not a single racer ever crossed the finish line after the first. Having all met the reaper in the desert. The minks were rewarded with food better than the grool that was their ground up brethren and given a place in history. Along with a lifetime of breeding as their stocks all rose drastically through this event.