Karine raised an eyebrow as she listened to the young little kid. His mouth seemed to run a hundred miles a minute, listing off reasons why Devil Fruits were cool. But what struck her the most was his comment about the taller man - Drake. Fallen from the sky? How exactly does one fall from the sky? Before she could pose the question, the kid's mother urged him to hush up.

Taking a drink from her glass of ale, Karine kept an ear out as the older woman introduced herself as Tara Zakara. The Fishwoman nodded as she listened closely to the proprietor of the bar. Her eyes lingered on the drink in front of her as she allowed the older woman's words to fill her ears. As she informed her of the situation with the scholars, Karine smirked and let out a small chuckle. She took another swig of her glass before setting it down again. She shook her head.

"Nah. Frankly, it'd be too big a risk to come here by myself if that was my only reason. Not that I don't mind the challenge," Karine remarked aloud. "Although I suppose I am after some info. The sea's a big place. Not always easy to navigate with all these wind currents and seasonal changes in the weather - never mind finding your way in the first place. I figured someone on this island had to be smart enough to know a thing or two about where to get some sea charts and maps".

Her little chit-chat was interrupted as a familiar face strolled in and started stacking logs of wood. Sitting from the barstool, Karine leaned back against the counter and watched him with an amused smirk as she sipped her drink. The bar owner seemed to have the kid wrapped around her finger with how he so dutifully followed orders. The thought briefly turned sour as she grimaced. Drake seemed to give her a look, but she didn't pay attention to it as she lost herself in her thoughts. It was only the words of Tara that shook her back out of it.

The Fishwoman found herself staring, her jaw ever so slightly slack. The words entered her head, but they seemed to just hit a brick wall somewhere between her ears and her brain. Karine allowed her eyes to glance in the direction of the kid, but he seemed to share the same earnestness as his own mother. As Tara's spiel came to an end, Karine's brows furrowed and her face adopted a scowl. She set her glass down.

"You're pretty trusting, you know. I'm actually impressed. You don't even know me, but you trust me to take this guy under my wing?" she questioned the two. "I'm "Turncoat" Karine Berry. I've got a bounty placed on my head for betraying the Marines. How do you know I haven't been playing you guys this entire time? After all, you guys just sent away your 'protector'. You're vulnerable".

Karine took a swig of her drink, downing the last of her glass.

"But... At the end of the day, I suppose I can't complain. I was thinking of recruiting people at some point anyway. But I'm not gonna make promises. If he joins my crew, that'll be his decision," Karine told the two. She gave a small chuckle. "Though, I certainly wouldn't mind putting him on clean-up duty. Serves him right for the trick he pulled earlier, if you ask me".

Karine glanced upwards at the man as he squatted down in front of her, looking him in the eye. Her body was still tense as she scowled in his direction. She could still feel the pounding in her head. His words sounded like how a slap across the face felt. Her webbed left hand clenched, grasping onto a clump of sand. She was ready to strike. But then she saw the young boy approach. He clung to the back of the guy standing over her and addressed her directly. Karine's scowl vanished, replaced by a hanging jaw.

"Kitty Kitty Fruit? I-" Karine spoke, only to find her words completely gone. She dropped the clump of sand she'd grasped in her hand and grabbed the collar of her shirt, pulling it down to better expose the red slits that lined her neck and collarbones. "See the gills here? See my fins?! I'm a Fishwoman, dammit!"

She released her grip on her shirt when she was certain the boy had seen her gills and stood up, glowering. She was scowling again, but she was mostly trying to suppress the hangover. Yelling out loud hadn't been good to her. It now felt like someone was smacking a brick against the crown of her head. She squinted.

The kid had already grabbed her arm and started pulling. All she could do was glance in the direction of the tall guy she'd just been fighting and raise a questioning eyebrow. Glancing back at the young kid however, she let out a sigh before letting him pull her along, walking just behind him as he tugged on her arm.

"Alright, kid, show me where breakfast is and I'm all yours," she told him, beginning to smile just a little. The kid was cute, if nothing else. Though she couldn't resist glancing over her shoulder for just a moment to stick her tongue out in the direction of the taller man. She needed some recompense, after all.

Karine was barely a few feet up the shore from her little dinghy when she caught sight of a tall man stepping down in front of her. He carried a sword in his hand and a look of suspicion on his face. For what it was worth, Karine shot back an annoyed stare as she looked up at him. Keeping her rucksack resting over her shoulder, Karine set one hand on her hip and leaned to one side. She could still feel a dull throbbing in the back of her head as she stared him in the eyes.

"This isn't a fight you should be picking," she told him, baring her sharpened teeth. She let her rucksack drop down at her feet, though she still kept her hand on the cord keeping it shut. "I've got the worst hangover right now. Until I've had some coffee, I'm not someone you wanna fuck with. Of course... Even if I wasn't hung over, I wouldn't recommend fucking with me anyway".

She didn't remember hearing about Ohara having some sort of protector. Last she remembered, Ohara relied on the Marines like pretty much every other island in the West Blue for protection. Did they have their own militia or something? He didn't seem to wear any kid of uniform. He just looked like some punk kid. A very tall punk kid, admittedly, but a punk kid nevertheless. Karine was more than familiar with his kind.

"Now let me go and head back home to your mom. I doubt she'd like to see her little boy's legs in a cast," she told him, not the slightest bit interested in dealing with him. But if he was going to put up a fight, she was not going to go easy on him. Last she needed was someone turning her over to the Marines. Especially this close to the 80th Branch.

Karine didn't really understand why the entire tavern had set its sights on her all of a sudden. Well, she understood it earlier, when she kicked the asses of those shady pricks running a wannabe gang, but it seemed this was just a tad more... intense. Everyone was staring at her with a slack jaw, leaving her to stop drinking for a moment and raise her brow in confusion. The air felt strangely thick. It was then that the blond spoke up.

A scam? Karine frowned and cast a glance in the direction of the barkeep. Setting her glass down firmly on the wooden counter top, she now directed her questioning stare in his direction. He seemed to be sweating, and just this side of irritated. She gave him a hard stare before casting her gaze back in the direction of the young blond guy sitting next to her. Shuffling a bit in her seat so that she was facing him, she kept one arm leaning on the counter top while the other hand rested on her leg.

"Well, if it's a scam, then we can't be having that, can we?" Karine spoke with a grin that was strangely devoid of humor and for some reason seemed directed more at the barkeep than towards the blond man in front of her. "So, how about we get the actual strongest drink in the bar, then. Wouldn't want to have our little contest drinking anything less, now would we?"

As if on cue, the blond man immediately called for the bartender to grab the green bottle and pour them both a shot glass. Karine kept her arms folded in front of her as she waited, grinning from ear to ear still. There was still a tenseness to her form, but she focused herself squarely on the man in front of her. There was something about him she couldn't quite place. But more than that, he seemed remarkably sure of himself. Karine wasn't one to back down from that.

As soon as her drink was poured, of course, Karine didn't waste any time. Grasping the shot glass, she raised it to her mouth and instantly downed it all at once. It was like magma scorching the inside of her throat, but Karine was made of tougher stuff than that. Setting the shot glass back down, she paused for a moment before looking back towards the blond man.

"Not half-bad. Bet gran probably chugged this stuff down by the gallon back home," Karine remarked aloud. "Another shot!"

Rain fell across the island of Toroa, turning the soils of the fields to mud and soaking the roads leading in and out of the villages scattered across the land. A howling wind blew through the land, causing unclosed shutters to flap and slam against the walls in the wind. Light would flash across the sky, followed by a roaring thunder. Doors and windows were kept firmly shut on this night. Not a single soul was to be found out on the streets at this time. No, everyone was huddled away inside, save one.

In the streets a dark figure clad in blue walked through the rain at a brisk pace, undaunted by the weather. She was short, but one would be forgiven for thinking otherwise as she strode down the street like a predator. Brown eyes remained fixated upon a tavern. In the rain the cuts that marred her cheeks and her arms almost went unnoticed. But the razor-sharp teeth grinding together were clear as day. As soon as she approached the door to the tavern, she wasted no time in kicking it open with nothing but her own brute strength.

Breaking the admittedly fragile lock on the tavern door, she ended up slamming the door against the wall and gaining the attention of every person within. She skipped over most of their faces, choosing instead to home in on the face of one man sitting in the corner of the tavern with a group of buddies on all sides of him and a cigar between his lips. She glared in his direction. Without wasting even a second, she immediately walked straight towards him.

"Marius."

Her voice was restrained. Her hands clenched into tight fists that began to turn slightly paler around the knuckles. The entire table began to stand up - with the exception of the man she stared in the face, who seemed to sink back into his chair as he fixed his rather unkempt, blond hair.

"K-Karine! I-"

"You led me right to the doorstep of an entire Marine division," she hissed, stopping just in front of his table. Two men stood to either side of 'Marius'; each one brandish brass knuckles. Karine didn't pay them any mind.

"Look, it was an honest mistake!"

"And how many times have I heard that excuse?" she snarled. "I'm beginning to think this deal's a bit too one-sided. How many times have I busted my ass for you?"

"Don't you even dare!" Marius spoke, now sitting up. He pointed a finger shakily in Karine's direction. "If you so much as lay a hand on me-"

"You'll what?"

There was a stiffness in the air of the tavern as all around watched Karine and Marius' table. Marius was shaking, but despite having been out in the rain, Karine didn't seem to budge at all. No one made a move for at least a minute before Karine's eyes narrowed.

"Just try it."

At once all four men rushed her. They were without form. Sloppy. swung out with both fists, backhanding the two closest men simultaneously. Both men dropped to the ground at once. A third stared at his downed comrades. The fourth dared to attack. Karine grabbed the man by the arm as he attacked and swung him overhead before slamming him down on his back. By now the third one had recomposed himself, but he moved too late - Karine quickly turned and slammed the sole of her foot into his stomach, sending him sprawling across the table in front of Marius. The Tiger-Shark Fishwoman then turned to Marius himself.

The blond man didn't even wait before ditching his comrades. As one of the two men on the ground began to recover, Karine grabbed him and used him as an improvised weapon, throwing him over the heads of the other tavern regular. He flailed about in the air before he collided with his boss, knocking the both of them out for the count. As the two men collapsed in a heap, Karine walked over to the counter of the bar and sat herself down on a stool. Looking the bartender in the eye, she flashed a wide grin.

"Sorry about that - personal business. I'll pay for the damages. Now," she spoke, leaning in over the counter. "What's your strongest drink?"

An hour passed before Karine even thought of getting back up. Nevertheless, she firmly planted her webbed palms in the sand and pushed herself up. Trails of gold streamed off of her before she shook her head, dispersing most of it. Bringing up her knees, she planted her feet firmly down and forced herself to stand back up. Letting out a sigh, she glanced down at her hands. She looked pensive, staring down at the palms before she clenched them both into fists.

She stepped away from the rocks by the shore and found a relatively smooth, flat section of the beach where the sand was clumped together by the waves. The water pushed itself up the shore, splashing past her ankles before receding. Karine watched it for a moment before nodding to herself and staring out towards the sea. She could see the sun above the horizon.

She planted both feet down - one where she stood, while the other was planted in front - as though she’d taken a step forwards. One arm pulled itself back by her waist, her elbow tucked into her side while the other hand stretched out towards the sea. Then, when she was ready, her fist flew forwards. Like a cannon, it shot out, stopping only when her arm was finished extending. Like a machine it almost immediately withdrew - it’s recession giving power to her other hand as it snapped forwards in a follow-up punch.

Her movements were fluid and precise. Each punch followed into the next one with no delay. As if to test her lungs as much as she tested her body, she screamed out a loud “Ha!” with every punch. Her only target was the air, but strength didn’t matter at this point. With every punch, she found herself correcting herself and fixing her mistakes with the next. She built up a rhythm as she refined her striking, manually correcting every tiny flaw in her form. In her mind she conjured the image of her own grandmother - her teacher - and applied what she knew to her own body.

With every punch, she refined that mental image and adjusted her body’s form. Tirelessly, she continued to strike out in front of her with punch after punch. Her eyes remained focused forwards as she continued to practice her form without relent. She didn’t even need to count this time - she was content to punch the air as many times as it took to refine her technique.