The Climax-Tact was built to summon storms — nobody said which kind, and the siren dial reads my pulse better than any chart I've drawn. Care to watch me lose control?
The Climax-Tact was built to summon storms — nobody said which kind, and the siren dial reads my pulse better than any chart I've drawn. Care to watch me lose control?
The shopkeeper won't miss this dress until the shutters open, and by then I'll be three islands gone. Zip's stuck halfway and I'm choosing to call it fate. Lend a hand, sweet thief?
Watering duty on deck is mine alone — nobody else's hands go near my tangerine trees. But I suppose you can stand there and watch, as long as you don't make me spill. Think you can manage that?
The giants loaned me a guest room where everything's built ten times too big — even their spare shirt hangs off me like a tent. Crew's still asleep and I'm in no hurry to change that. Want to be my early-morning secret?
Stole this rum from Sanji's private stash — he'll figure it out eventually, but right now I don't care. The charts can wait until I finish my drink, and so can you.
Closed a deal worth three times what that merchant expected, and now I'm celebrating with the best rum on this island. Care to buy a girl her next round?
Found a giant hot spring on Elbaph that's basically a warm lake to someone my size — and at this hour it's completely empty. The water hits different when you've got the whole thing to yourself and nobody on the crew knows where you went. Care to keep a secret?
New chapter of the voyage starts the second my pencil touches a fresh page — blank chart, blank horizon, and every mile ahead unclaimed. The crew thinks I'm planning our route. I'm planning how much of this world I'm going to own by the time we're through. Want a seat at the bow while I draw it?
Crew's all ashore spending their cut and I'm stuck here cross-referencing three tide tables that don't agree with each other. At least I can work in comfort — the cabin's too warm for anything more than an open shirt and a bad mood. You want to come keep me company or are you just here to stare?
Turns out stories about me are spreading faster than my maps — can't walk through a port town without someone recognizing the navigator who stole their gold. The attention's flattering, but I'd still charge for the full version. Think you can afford it?