"...to give up a portion of my freedom," Monet finished. "As I understand it, you said that I would only be affected by that if the one attempting to take control of me tripped a certain trigger."
"Correct. If they were to activate it, you would be under their total control- your body's actions and shape free to be manipulated at their command, your mind as malleable as the softest of clay. Of course, you would still be able to think for yourself...unless they ordered you not to. Are you absolutely certain that this is the path you will take?"
Monet paused for a moment, considering. "If I say yes...what will the trigger be, exactly? You owe me at least that much knowledge if I am to live with this."
Kuma nodded. "Of course. It is standard policy to inform those who select this method, anyway. The trigger is always selected as from the behavior patterns of the one who takes this option, to ensure that there is no way to create a 100% chance of avoiding the conditions. We can't just send you back without you taking a risk."
Monet pouted, having hoped to learn what her trigger was and then simply destroy any possibility of it occurring, but listened anyway.
"In your life, one of your notable weaknesses was that you were easily flattered by compliments. As such, this will be your curse to bear. Should someone compliment you and cause you to blush, you will be placed under their control until such a time as they pronounce themselves finished with you...at least until the next time they set off the trigger."
Monet bit her lip, annoyed and a bit embarrassed. It wasn't her fault that she blushed easily! In her line of work, one seldom received compliments, so it wasn't exactly easy to build up a resistance to them!
"F...Fine. If that's the price...then I'll take it! Send me back now!"
"Your choice has been made," Kuma declared, raising one large hand. "Do try not to die again- remember...there is no going back a second time."
His hand come down, lightly touching Monet's forehead...and everything went white.
------------------------------------------------------------------------
Cold.
That was the first thing Monet found herself feeling, an intense degree of cold. She couldn't remember the last time she'd truly felt the natural temperature of winter weather, not since before she'd had her Snow-Snow Fruit ability...that's right, Kuma- or whoever he was- had told her that her power was gone, moved on to its dormant state inside a fruit again...wait, but that meant...
"Ahh!" Monet gasped, sitting up hard...and wrapping her arms around herself, feeling her large, thick nipples pressing into her arms as the flesh of her enlarged breasts bulged around the slender limbs. That stupid bastard of a spirit...he'd sent her back to the exact spot she'd died, the winter-half of Punk Hazard...and left her without anything to wear!
Looking around, Monet spotted a crumpled yellow jumpsuit under a patch of rubble, starting to get up...and collapsing onto her padded ass, sending more jiggles through her body.
"Damn...not used to human legs...going to need a minute..." she grumbled, keeping her eyes on the jumpsuit. It looked like one of the full-body protection suits that Caesar Clown's men always wore. It had been developed by Dr. Vegapunk, so it would certainly keep out the cold...along with anything else...
Eyes widening, Monet looked up, spotting the large gap in the ceiling of the room where the winter wind was blowing in from. It didn't appear that any of Caesar's deadly experiment, the Land of Death Gas, was still around...just how long had she truly been dead?
She shook her head. No matter. Once she gained the ability to properly use her legs, she'd get dressed and then...well, she had a number of options. She could, of course, search for a Den-Den Mushi, if any were left functioning. If she could get in contact with Dressrosa and explain the situation, that would allow her to have her allies on her side and be guaranteed a way off this island.
Or...she could see if there were still any boats around. Caesar had to keep more than one tanker around here- there was no way that the SAD chemical could be transported so quickly by just the one. Then she could get her bearings and make her way to Dressrosa herself.
Then again...Monet's eyes flashed as she thought of something else. Being around Caesar Clown, she'd learned enough about the life cycles of Devil Fruits to know that the power in hers had to have transported into the nearest convenient vessel upon leaving her- that is, into a suitable fruit. What if...it was still nearby? The kitchens weren't all that far into the building. Could it have made it there?
Slowly getting up again and bracing herself against the wall to give her legs time to adjust, Monet began to plan her next move.
Fri Mar 21 08:13:40 2014
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