This might be a mistake, but damnit, if it doesn't have the off-chance of being really fun.

But on the off-chance it isn't, go read This Bites! or Thirteen Red Lines. Hell, maybe even Ripples In The Pond !Those stories are way cool, cooler than most coolkids 'round the block. Especially those three precious munchkins who dared to dream.

Let's start this garbage fire with what all fires start from.

A spark.

-o~O-O~o-

Chapter 1: Not A Drunk Walk In A Park

This shouldn't be so damned familiar. The only solace I could get was that a small part of me at the very lest recogniced that habitual drinking in the late hours was not exactly right. At least, to most people it shouldn't be.

I swear, some people just can't hold their damn alcohol. Like that one guy who went way off the deep end of the beer pool, started mumbling something about ponies or something and puked on the billiard table.

Four words: Not My Fucking Problem.

"Why do we get the weird ones?" The Barkeep- I can't for the life of me pronounce his name so let's call him Bob the Barkeep -huffs while cleaning his hand of the strange wibes from that guy he just threw out.

I just let out a noncommittal grunt and take a large gulp of my pint. I can't say with absolute certainty I remember what is in it, but if it makes the buzz stay where it belongs I couldn't care less if it was cat piss mixed with vinegar.

Well, not that I should comment on the weirdness of the patrons here...

Is my dress blue? No, wait. That's the ambiguous alcoholic substance seeing shit. Still black.

"You shouldn't play with the customers that much," Bob remarks in my general direction, seeing as I was the only one still here, as he saunters back behind the bar counter. "They just drink the trauma away and go way overboard. I mean, I ain't about to turn down money when it strikes the table, but kicking them out when they're done is a hassle."

I let out a menacing yet satisfied chuckle from the back of my throat. A small grin was plastered in my lips. "Ain't my fault they're a bunch of horny dogs that try to chat up anyone that looks pretty."

I can proudly say that I only slurred marginally, despite the... Shit, what pint was this again? Eh, whatever.

"I mean," I continue, abandoning that strain of thougfht, a finger twirling in one of the black drill-curls on the sides of my head, "isn't it my duty, as a man, to put them in their place?"

Bob the Barkeep just sighs. "Just keep the catfishing down to a minimum next time." He picks up a glass and starts acting his stereotype by scrubbing that shiny goblet of alcoholic bliss.

"Ah-Ah!" I wag my index finger side to side in dismissal of such claims. "It's only catfishing if you invite them over first under false pretenses. I believe- *hic* -sorry. I believe they come on their own under mistaken pretenses."

Bob rolls his eyes at me. The goof. "Sure, sure. By the way," his tumb pointed somewhere, a line of sight which lead me to what any bar-goer dreads.

THE DOOR.

"Closing in five. Get your butt outta' here." That last part was nicely formed as a mere suggestion, with a subtle aftertaste of 'or else I'll show you how shiny my boot is today'.

With only a momentary grumble of rebellion I hopped off the barstool- with grace fitting of classy drunkard -took a moment to reorrient myself and get my balance in check. Then I walked towards the exit from Booze Heaven.

"Forgot the money!" Bob exclaims from his spot. I only respond with a raised back of my hand.

"Tab," is my succinct answer, to which the good barkeep just grumbles. He knows me well enough to know I pay those things. I'm a man of my word, after all.

Reaching the handle and pulling. Nothing. Noticing my mistake I push instead and then I am outside. A chill rolls through me from the slight late evening wind.

It's darker than I recall. Must be just around midnight. Makes sense. Bob's is the only bar that is open this late.

The dark isn't a problem, I know these parts well enough. It's a bit remote though. Part of the appeal. It's cut off from the rest of society. Gives it a serene and free feel. I fully admit to liking the atmosphere. One of the only places you can actually drink alone on the reg.

The moon is out, so at least I can see fine-ish. Could just start walking to the shit apartment, but I find myself feeling refreshingly whimsical. I blame the alcohol in my blood, but I can't for the life of me find any reason to not go with it.

There's a park nearby that I could walk through. Enjoy the sounds of the night and just relax while my head clears up. So, patting my dress of any residual dust and cracking my neck for funsies, I set off for a relaxing walk through the woods.

Perhaps, in hindsight, I should have awknowledged a small nagging in the back of my head that something was watching me.

The trip wasn't that long, just a four minute walk. Not that eventful, outside of my humming. Can't for thel ife of me remember where it's from. When I reached the part of the park where the treeline started I sort of started to consider that it was odd that I couldn't head any sounds from the area.

Not even the chriping of crickets which, while clichê, was still a common enough occurence that I started taking notice. After, like two, three minutes of some of the most strange silence I've ever experienced. And that wasn't the booze talking. Maybe.

Branches and leaves shadowed my path as I kept walking. The dirt under me didn't so much as crunch and I swear it was getting darker and darker. Suddenly my senses caught up to me and I stopped dead on my tracks.

I couldn't see anything anymore. It was so dark. Darker than anything I had ever known possible. I moved my hand up to my face but couldn't even see a faint outline. Even the moon was gone.

"What the hell is..." I muttered. Something smelled weird all of a sudden. Like... salt. But not quite. Definitely salty though. I shook my head to try to clear my clearly still off the fritz head and took another step. Imagine my surprise when the ground I walked on wasn't as stable anymore. The ground under my foot freaking tilted!

"Shit!" I cried as I fell backwards, hitting the back of my head onto something on the way. "Fuck!" I curse, curling up to cradle the back of my skull. Then mumbled a few more curses.

What can I say? I get irate when I'm hurt and cursing has been scientifically proven to ease pain. If anything, I am justified in my profanity.

Letting the hurt wilt away and turning my attention back to the fact that the ground had just fucking lurched from under me left me with so many questions. Most prominent amongst these was: "WHAT THE HELL WAS THAT!?"

Which I, of course, screamed at the top of my lungs. I need clarity, damnit! But it was still so fucking dark and I couldn't see shit! Then I felt whatever I was now sitting on move in a pattern. Like something bobbing on waves of...

Hold on...

All of a sudden it got really, really bright. Bringing out another curse, my eyes shut close and my arm move to block the light. Seriously, what the hell is happening? First it's absolute darkness and now it's stagelights to the face.

I blinked my eyes slowly, forcing them to adjust so I could see worth a damn. At first it was a blur, but I could definitely see. The darkness from before had all but vanished. With one final blink I opened my eyes fully to see...

See...

...

"No. Fucking. Way." My eyes couldn't believe what I saw.

A sunrise lit the horizon before me, a rising dawn of a new day, which made no sense. I wasn't walking for that long, no way. What got me more was the vast expanse of the most scenic and beautiful azure I had ever laid eyes on. Just... Water, as far as the eye could see, sparkling under the rays of a brand new day.

It was... really, really pretty.

...

Wait, waitwaitwaitwait. "Wait! Hold the damn phone. WHAT!?"

I looked around and found out that the moving thing I was sitting on was a wooden raft. And as far as I could tell, I was in the middle of fuck-all nowhere, surrounded by the vast ocean blue.

...

Deep breath. In and out "... Okay." All calmed down. My brain wasn't that out the gutter from the booze. I wasn't in any stage that would make my memory black out like this and I'm plenty sure that this wasn't a hallucination. But that just left more questions.

"Let's see the facts," I started to speak out loud, mostly to affirm this... madness to myself. Time to be rational about this. "First, I left the bar and went for a walk in the park. Then it got really quiet and dark. And then I was stranded on sea."

... My head hurts. Way too early to be a hangover. That's going to be fun.

"The only plausible conclusion- no matter how obscenely unlikely or improbable -is that something happened while I was in that darkness." I reasoned. It was the only part of any of this that made sense, and that was pathetic. "But what was it? Hmm..."

I put on my thinking face: eyes closed, brows furrowed and my lips in a straight line.

After a full minute of thinking, I just gave it quits. Nothing made sense right now. I had no answers for any of this. But reality was clear. My pain made this being a dream impossible, unless I was in a deep coma, in which case, no thanks. I don't want to be depressed so soon. That's only distracting.

Taking another look at the raft I noted that it was surprisingly well done. Large logs tied firmly with rope. It even had a small mast and sail, the thing my head cracked against when I fell, I'd reckon. It was big enough that I could lie on my back and one side, arms and legs spread out and still have some space. Kind of a DIY masterpiece.

It was also really stable. The lurching from earlier must've been me walking too close to the edge. As I tried to not think about plummeting into the sea in complete darkness because I like my sanity, I noticed something else on the raft.

A huge sack that I had no excuse for not noticing before. In fact, I could almost swear it just appeared there moments ago because it sure as hell wasn't there when I initially looked around to get a hang of my situation.

Also, the bag looked... how do I put this? Sort of 2-D-ish. It was really weird. Like it was a cartboard cut out, but as I moved a bit to the side it definitely had dimentions.

"..." I was about to slap myself to make sure the alcohol wasn't to blame for this of visual dysphoria when I spied a look at my hand. Pale skin, almost chalk white with the fingernails painted black.

Yes, I had a bit of a gothic thing going. But that wasn't the point.

The same visual 'what-the-fuck' that was with the bag was also present in my very own limb. I moved my hand and fingers a bit, then scanning down the length of my arm, covered by the sleeve of my dress, even looking at the rest of my ensemble. A black dress with white lace embroiled on the layered hems and a pair of hard-tipped knee-high boots.

Everything just seemed so... Cartoony. Like a drawing. That's the best I could describe it.

... I slapped myself anyway. What I saw wasn't going away and even seemed to extend to the raft I stood on. All in all, all I could do was shrug and go "Okay" because I didn't want the headache from this particular piece of nonesense.

Where was I? ...Oh yeah, the bag. Focus on one thing at the time. Overwhelming the senses is the least that I want right now.

The bag was pretty standard. Basically an oversized brown burlap sack, though as I touched it it wasn't coarse so it had to be some other thick fabric. There was a strikingly white envelope near where the bag had been tied shut with a length of rope. Even had a ribbon on it, which made no sense with thick strings of anything.

Taking the envelope and inspecting it I couldn't find anything to indicate whom it was from, or for. It was just a blank paper envelope. Nothing out of the oridinary. I, of course, opened it and found a letter inside. Which I naturally read, like the invasive person I was.

Dearest You-Know-Who-You-Are

I hate to inconvenience you, but I need assistance in a matter of dire importance. I sincerely apologize for this abrupt summoning but I assure you I didn't do so out of any ill will.

I've pulled you into a world cut off from yours, a different dimention alltogether. In this world of vast oceans I humbly ask that you live and survive.

I know this may anger you, maybe even bring you grief. But I implore you, please, consider this a start of a new life. This world has a plan for you and it needs you. I know you have what it takes!

At the very least consider the benefits of this world. But be careful. Many dangers and foes of great power lie in your path. As compensation for the suddenness of this call, I've left you with supplies that you may use in your journey to even the odds stacked against you.

Please, be safe.

And please. Be happy again.

-E.V.E

... Okay. Patronizing nonesense aside.

Another dimention. Summoning. Smells like insinuations of divine intervention. That won't do! I want something that is actually believable. Aliens makes way more sense than fucking godly machinations. I do not approve of this! Give me science and logic damnit!

And that so called identification? 'E.V.E'? Is this someone trying to mess with me? This seems suspiciously like someone is trying to make fun of me! But that must mean that this IS meant for me, if they made it so. Hmm...

Wait, there is an arrow in the there. Seems to indicate continuation. I turn the letter over. There was a bit more in the middle of the paper

I'm sorry. I lied a little.

Everyone else was doing it so I just wanted to try as well.

;3

... Eye twitch. In extreme. Annoyance.

I crumpled the letter into a ball and threw it into the sea. Sadly it only after came to me that I really wanted to burn it instead, but what is done is done. Good riddance!

Wanting to not think about that infuriating thing, back to the bag. Aaand it is now that it hits me that it is huge. Like, the thing is almost taller than me! I mean, I'm 170cm, just for comparison. What, is that thing also a damn tent?

... Options for later.

I grab the top of the bag with one hand and make an attempt to gauge it's weight. Unsurprisingly, it isn't lifting for shit. The logical next step would be to try both hands to see if I can even lift it at all, so here goes!

My hands firmly grip the top of the bag, I take a deep breath and then hoist!

"Gah!" I cry out as the raft lurches in an unnatural manner the moment I managed to lift the bag even a bit, causing me to release the damn thing and send myself off balance in the ensuing movement. I managed to not fall on my ass with only minimally ridiculous limb flailing.

Holy hell! That thing is heavier than I thought, but still manageable, for a short while. And I am not that strong. Definitely not looking forward to carrying that around, if that indeed is something I must do. It also seems that just picking up the thing sets the damn raft off balance by, like, a lot. What, is it the supporting bag that keeps this thing from sinking or some crap?

I shake my head. Not the time for this. Let's forget the bag for a moment. I'm ashamed I have to remind myself that I'm fucking stranded in the middle of the ocean with possible starvation, death by the sun or a random shark attack waiting at any possible moment to snuff me out like a candle.

... Wow, I got sober quick. When did this happen?! Is this another mystery? Fuck that! I have enough on my plate as is.

I start scanning the horizon for any sign of... well, anything. A ship. Land. Anything. And 'lo and behold, there is, indeed, some green in the distance if I squint hard enough. Or it might be a mirage. In which case I might as well jump into the water and wait for the sharks to make happy.

Also, at that very moment the sail of my seabound trap catches wind and- I lick my finger and assess the direction of the wind -it is leading us to that very island.

"How convenient," I remark, oozing with sceptical contempt for this physical impropability. "How very convenient, indeed." Still, I gracefully accept that this is indeed happening.

Welp, seeing as the raft seems to be pretty much on autopilot, with little I can do to influence it, I might as well lie down for a bit. So I do.

Placing my hands behind my head as a cushion as I lie down, I glance at the bag in my line of sight. I could examine it's contents but right now I am not sure I want to risk this raft falling apart or something. Maybe after I hit land, granted that isn't a fata morgana in the distance.

That'd be such a dick move.

"Oh well," I sigh, letting it go. "Might as well nap. Was starting to get sleepy anyhow."

With that I closed my eyes and, through methods honed through many lonely drunken nights to perfection, switch my brain to sleep-mode.

...

I suddenly sat up, wide awake and alert at a horrible revelation.

"Oh shit, the tab."

-o~O-O~o-

Prologue done.

To clarify some things right off the gate. Our Protagonist-kun isn't into anime(he barely knows it's a thing) and One Piece doensn't exist in his home dimension. Because I want to see what I can make up as I go with a character of this type(you-know-who-you-are) who has absolutely no excuse for not changing canon events.

Ignorance; The best way to fuck shit up righteously!

Prepare for, at some point, complete off-the rails action of varying variety!

Also, yes. Our MC is a male. Wearing a gothic-lolita dress. :D

-With Regards, C-Hablerie