Pop's Chair

Summary: Ace wasn't one for art or carving, but Pops' chair was truly a work of art, nearly as old as the Whitebeard crew's creation. You'll never guess who carved it! I'll give you a hint, his name starts with an 'M'...

XxFire-PhoenixxX: wrote an epic review to me on how my stories, as short as they are, are something that people can relate to and are really inspiring. I really appreciated it because, unlike some of my fellow writers, I can't write long stories; I come up with a great beginning, my middle gets weak, and my endings are non-existent. So I really appreciate her words cause it shows that my writing isn't in vain.

Thanks to all for support when I know, my writing is small compared to my seniors on the site. It's nice to know that my hard work isn't for nothing and that you appreciate the time it takes to do these when I'm in college. So thanks so much~! :3

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Let's set the scene! Open sea; soft rushing water against the wooden hull of the beloved Moby Dick; clear skies. Safe waters, for once, on the usually treacherous currents of Paradise. Over all, a beautiful, peaceful day for the Whitebeard pirates. All of Pop's sons were on the ship, going about their business. One in particular, was on the deck's second floor, sitting on his rump, near Pop's 'throne'.

Ace tilted his head, totally mesmerized by the sight before him. Pop's chair was super old, like almost as old as the family, but strong, and beautiful, made of red mahogany wood and coated with shiny lacquer. What caught Ace's attention the most, however, were the intricate carvings on the sides of the throne.

Ace wasn't one for art or carving, but Pops' chair was truly a work of art. The throne was covered in the most intricate wood carvings Ace had ever seen. On the sides, there were carvings that seemed to have a pattern; starting out with a man that Ace assumed was Pops. If Ace looked carefully, he could see the story within the wood.

The man was sad, or lonely, standing alone on a ship that was in open waters. Continuing, the man was joined by a small child, and they were both smiling. Then next, another boy joined, then a large man, who Ace thought was Jozu, and soon there were a total of fifteen figures; the commanders. The carvings go on to show different scenarios; freedom of slavery with Namur, fan-dancing with Izo, flying with what must of been Marco. There were so many.

"Beautiful, isn't it."

Ace jumped and looked up. "Pops," he said in surprise, then looked down and back up. "Uh-uh," he confirmed.

"Gurarara," Pops chuckled, peering down from his seat. "This chair depicts the beginning of this family."

Ace looked at them again and Pops continued, pointing to different carvings. "This is young man here is Jiru, and there is Haruta, when she was six," he said, "And this is Rakuyo, when he found Macy."

"And this is Marco?" Ace asked, pointing at the smiling child.

Pops chuckled with a nod. "That is Marco," he confirmed, smiling softly in memory.

"Wow," Ace breathed, looking at them all, then he frowned and tilted his head. "Who made these?" he asked curiously.

Pops smiled softly, stroking the arm of the chair. "Why don't you look at the back," he said, changing the subject.

Ace's eyebrows furrowed before he stood and complied. Pops pulled his captain's coat from the back and Ace gasped, his eyes widened.

"Everyone," he whispered in awe and Pops smiled.

In the back, really small but there, was everyone, literally. Just taking up half of the giant chair, were carvings of everyone crew member, dead and alive, on the back of the seat. They were all smiling, and touching in some way, like holding hands, or leaning on each other, or shouldering each other. They all looked so happy.

Ace followed the small carvings, silently naming everyone he knew, until he reach the end. He paused, frowning. His crew was added, all expertly carved and painted with lacquer, each smiling with their new siblings. Ace looked again and came up empty handed. He wasn't on it. Why? Wasn't he a part of this crew? Of this family?

"The artist wanted to finish something else before adding you," Pops chuckled, and gestured to the last side of the throne.

Once again, Ace moved, to look at the final side; he froze in shock. There he was, alone; a story beside him. His carving was just standing there, holding his face in his hands, like he was crying, and his body was surrounded by a plume of flames; a wall against the world. The next scene showed Ace again in that position, but his wall was being breach, by Marco, who had his hand on the other's shoulder. Wood-Ace was looking up, his face shocked, and beside Marco's carving was a small carving with Marco's head, which was smiling so happily.

The next scene, Pops was on his knee, tightly hugging Ace to his chest; wood-Ace still had a shocked expression as he was smothered with love. The next scene, wood-Ace was being shown affection by the rest of the crew, Thatch, ruffling his hair; wood-Ace was smiling slightly. Next, wood-Ace's bare back was to everyone, showing his mark. Finally, Marco was in his phoenix form, glancing behind himself, where wood-Ace was standing. Wood-Ace was split in half, one side lit by his flames and smirking, the other smiling and shouldering Thatch, who had his fingers up in peace.

Ace, the real Ace, jolted when his face was wiped; he was crying. "Sorry," Ace muttered, rubbing his face of the tears.

Pops chuckled, "This is one of my favorites," he said, ruffling Ace's hair, "Now I have the stories for all of my commanders with me; everyone will know the beginning of this great family."

Ace smiled, holding the warm finger on his head. "Pops." a lazy voice called.

Ace paused and turned in surprise; Marco was walking up the steps. "Pops," the phoenix said again, "I came to-."

Marco paused in embarrassed surprise when he saw that Ace was there as well; flushing slightly as his eyes met Ace's. Ace stared at the first commander in shock as he looked from the carving to the tool-belt around Marco's waist; filled to the brim with carving tools. Ace gasped softly.

"You?" he asked in shocked.

Marco blushed, looking up as he idly scratched his chin. "Yea; and?" he asked, red faced.

Marco grunted as he was suddenly hugged tightly; he glanced at his newest brother in surprise. "Ace?" he asked.

Ace smiled, hugging the phoenix tighter. "Thanks for never giving up on me," he said sincerely, squeezing tighter.

Marco chuckled, patting the fire-fist's back. "I couldn't let you miss out on this," he said easily. "I knew you'd regret it forever."

Marco pulled away from his brother, gesturing towards Pops and his chair. "Come on," he said, grinning, "You can model for your carving."

Ace nodded happily. "You better get my good side," he joked, following.

Pops smiling, watched his two sons while listening as the two talked animately about nothing, liked they'd been brothers forever. Almost reverently, Pops swiped his thumb over an old, worn carving on top of his right chair-arm. A kanji lovingly, carved into the mahogany by a novice, and smoothed down from the constant rubbing. It said, "Thank you for my new family, love Marco".

"You're mistaken Marco," Pops thought, smiling softly. "It is you I should be thanking; all of you."

End.

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AN: um, think of Ace's story like a comic strip: if you can't see a character's face, sometimes the artist will add a little snapshot so you can see their expression or something.

Aw~ I really liked that! One of my favorite One Piece subjects, outside of the Strawhats, is of the Whitebeard crew! I love writing about Pops, and Marco-chan, and Ace-nii, Thatch-senpai! How can you not! I find so few of them by themselves(without Sabo and Luffy included) and I wish I did.

Pop's crew is even closer than the Strawhats and are super funny! A totally 'normal' dysfunctional family~!

Anyways, till next time,

Ja ne~!